


Colonization 101

by jamelia116, juli17ptf, Voyager_Virtual Season_7-5_Staff_Writers (jamelia116)



Series: Voyager Virtual Season 7.5 [10]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crew as Family, F/M, Holodeck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 09:11:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19292686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamelia116/pseuds/jamelia116, https://archiveofourown.org/users/juli17ptf/pseuds/juli17ptf, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamelia116/pseuds/Voyager_Virtual%20Season_7-5_Staff_Writers
Summary: It's that time of year again for the annual Emergency Procedures Drill. This time, it's the Doctor's turn to devise the scenario to test the skills (and sometimes the patience) of Voyager's crew.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Paramount owns all. We just play in their backyard.

**Prologue**   
  
B'Elanna walked through Sickbay, deserted and silent except for the humming of standby systems. She strode into the Doctor's office, where she found her husband's attention focused on the desk console. He was using a manual targeting device to move objects around on the screen, though she couldn't quite make out from her altered view exactly what those objects were. She watched his quick, jerky motions and the frown of intense concentration on his face for several moments before she spoke.   
  
"Tom."   
  
Tom jumped up from the Doctor's chair. "B'Elanna..." He moved around the desk, looking at her with concern. "Are you feeling okay?"   
  
"I'm feeling fine," she assured him. She patted the small swell of her belly. "We both are."   
  
"Good." Tom looked relieved, then a little confused. "Is something else wrong?"   
  
"Does something have to be wrong for me to stop by and see you?" B'Elanna asked. "I'm actually on a break right now."   
  
"Really? So things are going well in Engineering?"   
  
B'Elanna smiled at the hopeful look in his eyes. "There are still a few minor repairs to be finished, but Engineering is basically back to normal."   
  
"Does this mean I'll get to see my wife tonight, instead of her falling into bed and passing out as soon as she gets home? Not that you don't look beautiful unconscious, mind you."   
  
"That's flattering to know," B'Elanna said dryly. With all the repair work to be done on Voyager after the damage by the Borg drones and then the confrontation with the Trefla, lately she'd gone straight to bed two nights out of three. Half of the time Tom was already there trying to get some sleep himself after a double shift. She knew he worried about her working so much, among other things, but she hadn't had any choice. "It looks pretty quiet here."   
  
"There've been no patients at all today. That's a first in over a month."   
  
B'Elanna heard the relief in Tom's voice. He'd spent whatever time he could be spared from the bridge helping the Doctor with the injuries after the Borg attacks, and then helping deliver a cure to the disconnected drones on the Trefla. If they never saw a Borg cube again it would be too soon, though she didn't count on them being so lucky. "So, where is the Doctor, and what are you doing?" She reached past Tom as she spoke, and turned the screen so she could see it. She stared at the odd diagram of interconnected channels that had some sort of small semicircular icons moving through them, gobbling up little dots in their wake--a geometric representation of nanoprobes at work in the immune system, perhaps? "Is this some sort of research?"   
  
"Uh, well..."   
  
B'Elanna's eyebrows rose as a small banana appeared and began to move through one of the channels. She revised her assessment; it must represent the digestive system--   
  
"Actually, it's a game."   
  
B'Elanna turned and stared at Tom. "A...game?"   
  
"It's one of the earliest computerized video games from the twentieth century. It's called PacMan. It's a fascinating piece of historical--"   
  
"Of course it is," B'Elanna interjected. She was familiar enough with her husband's boundless fascination with the twentieth century to know when to cut him off. "So this is what you do when you're covering for the Doctor--play computer games?"   
  
"Hey!" Tom protested. "I already updated the last files the Doctor left for me. These old two-dimensional video games were great for improving eye-hand coordination and keeping reflexes sharp, something critical to a pilot's performance."   
  
"Ah, so this is strictly a training application."   
  
Tom grinned. "Exactly. With no patients at the moment, I had to find something useful to do with my time." He put his hands on her shoulders. "Of course, if you _are_ in need of a highly qualified medic, my expert services are available."   
  
"Are they?" B'Elanna trailed a finger over his chest. "And just what sort of expert services does a 'highly qualified medic' provide?"   
  
"That depends. Where does it hurt?"   
  
B'Elanna laughed. "That's a pathetic line, Tom. Generally I'd get you for that, but I'm feeling a little too sweet- natured at the moment."   
  
Tom's lips quirked. "Hmm. So I've noticed."   
  
"Enjoy it because it won't last." The Doctor had said the odd placidity she'd recently been feeling was a temporary effect--from her Klingon hormones no less--and would wear off by her sixth month.   
  
"I know. I already miss scraping shields with you."   
  
She smiled. "You do?" She slipped her arms around his neck, and kissed him hard, just to prove there would still be plenty of scraping shields ahead for them. Tom's arms tightened around her and she sighed as he nuzzled her neck.   
  
"I miss you period, B'Elanna. Hell, these days we're lucky if we get to eat dinner together once a week, and it's been almost that long since we did anything but sleep in our bed."   
  
"I know. But this probably isn't the right place to address that issue."   
  
"The supply closet has a lock, remember? It worked out pretty well for us last time."   
  
B'Elanna smirked. "As I recall you ended up with several bruises, and it took us nearly an hour to put back everything that fell off the shelves." It had also been during the third shift, when Tom had worked a lot of those shifts after his month in the brig. Right after, in fact, so that probably explained why she'd been so willing to forgo caution.   
  
Tom grinned impudently. "I'm willing to take the chance."   
  
B'Elanna shook her head. "I have to be back in Engineering in less than ten minutes." She groaned as Tom's fingers trailed over her spine in caressing strokes and drifted lower. He knew it drove her wild when he was gentle, but she steeled herself as his lips brushed hers. "Tonight I promise we'll make the time--"   
  
"Ah, Lieutenant Paris. I see you're keeping yourself busy."   
  
B'Elanna pulled away from Tom as the Doctor strode into his office. She hadn't even heard him enter Sickbay.   
  
"Back from the holodeck so soon, Doc?" Tom asked.   
  
"Have I interrupted a patient consult? Or was that a new method of treatment?"   
  
"I was performing a massage," Tom said, not missing a beat. "Pregnancy puts a lot of stress on the lower back."   
  
"Indeed, it does. However, your hands were several centimeters below the lieutenant's lower back. Perhaps a remedial course in anatomy would be helpful. Lieutenant Torres, if you are experiencing back pain--"   
  
"My back is fine!" B'Elanna said sharply.   
  
"Excellent." The Doctor shifted his attention to the PADD he was holding. "Then I can continue working on my plans for the annual emergency procedures drill. I'm sure you recall that it is my turn to organize it this year. I've just been refining my holoprogram."   
  
B'Elanna had completely forgotten about the annual drill. With the events of the past few weeks, she suspected everyone else had too. "Your drill is a holodeck program?"   
  
"I believe two years ago your drill took place on the holodeck."   
  
"Well, I was hardly going to eject the _real_ warp core and reinstall it," B'Elanna said. "It was a standard training simulation already on file."   
  
"So, why do you need the holodeck, Doc?" Tom asked. "Releasing some sort of virulent holographic plague for us to contain?"   
  
The Doctor waved his hand dismissively. "We've contained enough real plagues already. I decided my drill should focus on something a little more challenging; a situation for which we've never adequately prepared ourselves. It will give the crew the opportunity to call on skills they haven't fully utilized on Voyager, and learn a few new ones that could be vital should we ever face this particular situation."   
  
B'Elanna thought it sounded like something that was going to interfere with her work, but Tom said, obviously intrigued, "Sounds interesting."   
  
"Since it's not convenient for us to land on a class M planet for several days, I've created one. In fact, it's ready and waiting."   
  
Tom looked at B'Elanna and she shrugged. He took the bait. "Ready and waiting for what?"   
  
"For habitation, of course." The Doctor beamed. "I'm calling my version of the annual emergency procedures drill 'Colonization 101'."   
  



	2. Act 1

**Act 1**   
  
At the senior officers briefing two hours later, Janeway's frown was directed at the Doctor. "Doctor, I don't think..."   
  
"You haven't heard me out yet."   
  
That was true. But the words "holodeck program" had been a red flag when combined with the Doctor's tendency toward dramatics. Janeway glanced at her senior officers gathered around the briefing table, then back at the Doctor. "I'm considering skipping the annual emergency procedures drill this year." She actually hadn't had time to think about it either way, but now it seemed like a good idea. "With everything the ship has been through over the past few weeks, it would probably be redundant. And we're still not finished with all the repairs--"   
  
"We've never skipped the drill before when the ship has been in less than optimal shape," the Doctor protested.   
  
"The drill is a matter of protocol, Captain."   
  
Janeway transferred her gaze to Tuvok. "That is true, Commander. However, regulations do allow postponement or cancellation should more critical matters take precedence."   
  
"According to the latest reports, the major repairs are all completed." Chakotay glanced at B'Elanna for confirmation.   
  
B'Elanna nodded reluctantly. "But there are still more repairs to be done in Engineering."   
  
"Minor repairs," the Doctor noted cheerfully. "My drill won't interfere with that work at all."   
  
"We're also traveling through dangerous territory where we may need to defend ourselves at a moment's notice," Janeway said. "We can't afford to let our guard down."   
  
"I agree, Captain. That is the beauty of using the holodeck for my drill. It doesn't tie up any critical ship's systems, and it can be shut down at a moment's notice should that become necessary."   
  
Janeway frowned. It was difficult to refute the Doctor's reasoning. Generally, when their yearly turn to run the emergency procedures drill arrived, each senior officer applied the drill to his or her own field, as Tuvok had conducted a counter-invasion security lockdown in the third year, and B'Elanna a warp core ejection and retrieval in the fifth year. "Am I to assume your drill will involve a holographic medical crisis?" she asked. Not that they hadn't just dealt with several, including one that hadn't even been their own.   
  
The Doctor shook his head, and reiterated Janeway's own thought. "We've experienced several real medical crises, and I believe we are adequately prepared to handle them, under my expert guidance of course. I've decided to focus on a situation where we've had little real experience. Quite honestly, Captain, it was our narrow escape from the Borg recently, and our assistance to the Pozjan that brought the scenario to mind. Had we not been so fortunate- -"   
  
"Tell me this isn't an evacuation drill," Janeway demanded. Besides the fact that Tom had conducted an evacuation drill in year four, complete with a recapture of the ship using their aging pre-Delta Flyer shuttle fleet--a maneuver Tuvok had deemed completely unfeasible though the crew still remembered it fondly--they had faced too many attempted takeovers of Voyager recently. She didn't like the idea of going through an evacuation, even in a simulation.   
  
"Well...not exactly," the Doctor said. "Though evacuation is admittedly a precursor in my particular scenario. My drill deals with the crew colonizing a planet."   
  
"Colonizing a planet?" Janeway echoed, momentarily at a loss. The rest of the senior staff looked equally surprised, except for Lieutenants Paris and Torres.   
  
"As I said, it is the one eventuality for which we have not completely prepared."   
  
"Because it's not going to happen."   
  
The Doctor looked flustered at Janeway's snapped statement. "Perhaps not, but the purpose of the emergency procedures drill is to prepare the crew for any possible fate."   
  
"The Doctor is correct," Tuvok interjected. "Colonization has always been a potential outcome of our journey should the ship be lost, or rendered unsalvageable. It would be reasonable to prepared ourselves to whatever extent is possible."   
  
"Voyager is fine," Janeway said shortly. "We've always recovered from whatever fate has dealt us, including our most recent confrontations with the Borg."   
  
"The point is, we can't know the future," Chakotay said. "We're still facing over twenty years of travel through unknown territory, and we don't know what obstacles we may encounter. We've almost had to colonize a couple of times in the past."   
  
"But we haven't," Janeway said, with a hard look at Chakotay.   
  
"Captain, I also believe the Doctor's drill has merit," Seven said.   
  
"Besides, it could be fun."   
  
"Fun, Lieutenant Paris?" Janeway speared Tom with a withering look.   
  
Tom was unfazed. "It's been a tough few weeks, Captain. We could all use an opportunity to think about something else."   
  
"Exactly," the Doctor said. "The crew has been through some traumatic events recently, and they need a chance to rejuvenate."   
  
"I agree," Neelix said, speaking for the first time. "This might be very good for morale, especially since we had to postpone our Olympics."   
  
"It's too bad I couldn't cannibalize more of the holodeck's power source," B'Elanna muttered, just loud enough to be heard. Then she added reluctantly, "But the drill shouldn't interfere with the repair schedule, if the crew participates in shifts."   
  
"That is my plan," the Doctor said. "For six days the crew can work shortened shifts, and spend several hours a day taking part in the colonization drill on a rotating basis."   
  
"Six days?" Janeway echoed.   
  
"I never said anything about working _shorter_ shifts," B'Elanna protested.   
  
"It is workable though," the Doctor prodded.   
  
Janeway looked at her senior officers. She was familiar with the generally positive status reports from all departments, and she couldn't come up with a good reason to refuse the Doctor his turn at the drill. Her assembled officers were clearly in favor of it, even if B'Elanna would rather focus on her engines, and Harry's silence signaled his assent. She knew the idea had some merit, if only to broaden the skills of her crew.   
  
Janeway returned her attention to the EMH. "Very well, Doctor. You may conduct your colonization drill. However, if it interferes in any way with the needs of the ship, or the crew, it will be terminated."   
  
"Understood, Captain."   
  
"You can work with Commander Chakotay to rearrange the duty shifts to accommodate your drill. We'll start tomorrow." The sooner it was completed the better, as far as Janeway was concerned. "Commander Tuvok, please make the announcement to the crew. The rest of you, work with your departments to make sure systems will be monitored adequately during the exercise. Dismissed."   
  
The officers rose and began to file out, the Doctor talking animatedly to Seven, Tom saying something quietly to B'Elanna that elicited a shrug, and Tuvok and Harry following in silence. Chakotay remained behind as the door closed, and Janeway sighed. "Is there something else, Commander?"   
  
"This is one of those rare occasions where I agree completely with Tom."   
  
"The stars must be aligned," Janeway said.   
  
Chakotay ignored her sarcasm. "Besides the skills the crew will learn, or relearn as the case may be, they could use a diversion after the stress of the past few weeks. So could you."   
  
"Is that your way of telling me you're putting me in the rotation?"   
  
"Since when doesn't everyone on the ship participate in an emergency procedures drill, including the captain?"   
  
Unfortunately he had a point. "Still, a holoprogram..."   
  
"Well, this is Voyager," Chakotay noted, flashing a brief, wry smile. "Now that we've hopefully seen the last of the Borg for a while, there's nothing like a holoprogram to give everyone a sense of normalcy again."   
  
"That's one way of looking at it," Janeway said, thinking that Chakotay was being overly-optimistic on the first assumption, as was often his nature, though he understood reality as well as anyone. "I hope you're right about the Borg." She turned to reach for her PADD when Chakotay spoke again behind her.   
  
"Kathryn..."   
  
Janeway straightened and met his direct gaze.   
  
"This is only a holodeck simulation, you know."   
  
Her eyebrows rose. "I know."   
  
Chakotay nodded and slipped out the door, leaving Janeway staring after him, wondering why he'd felt motivated to say that.   
  
^*^*^*^   
  
Chakotay stood next to the Doctor, looking over the chosen settlement site for the colony. It had potential. The ground was flat and grassy, with widely scattered trees. The surrounding land was arable, and a river less than a kilometer away would provide fresh water, as well as lumber from the denser woods along its bank.   
  
"Good choice, Telfer and Henley," Chakotay complimented the two, whose combined geology and surveying backgrounds had been valuable in locating the best site on the Doctor's simulated planet.   
  
"We didn't have time to check for every potential problem, but this does seem to be the most suitable site. We're in a temperate zone, so the weather should remain mild, and in the middle of a tectonic plate, so the chance of quake activity is minimal."   
  
"Each planet is unique, Mister Henley," the Doctor said. "Since this is a training drill, I have added in a few difficulties to challenge us all. Weather variations, local wildlife, that sort of thing."   
  
Telfer looked alarmed. "Local wildlife?"   
  
"The initial biological survey showed a variety of animal life from insects to mammals, Crewman, typical on a class M planet. We'll take appropriate precautions."   
  
Telfer still looked worried despite Chakotay's assurance. Henley appeared less concerned, no doubt aware that the holodeck safeties were engaged, so any encounters wouldn't result in real injuries.   
  
"This looks like a pretty decent site for a colony," Tom said as he approached with B'Elanna and Harry. "So, what's the plan?"   
  
The Doctor studied the PADD in his hand. "I took the initiative of drawing up a blueprint for the settlement."   
  
"That's pretty elaborate, Doc," Tom said as he peered over the Doctor's shoulder.   
  
From the Doctor's other side Chakotay saw that it did look like a draft for a small city rather than for a fledgling colony. "Perhaps we should start out a little simpler, Doctor."   
  
Tom stabbed at the PADD with one finger. "What's this? 'EMH Music Hall'?   
  
Chakotay looked at the spot Tom had indicated. He noticed the buildings were labeled in small print with names like "Mess Hall" and "Granary." Sure enough the one Tom had indicated read "EMH Music Hall."   
  
B'Elanna snorted. "Are you kidding? A music hall?"   
  
"Culture is vital to the well-being of any sentient population, Lieutenant. The hall will serve as a location for gatherings similar to the music nights we now have on Voyager, when Lieutenant Kim plays the clarinet, and Mister Tuvok the Vulcan lute, among others. Perhaps your husband can debut that 'rock and roll' band he's been threatening us with."   
  
"And you'll no doubt be singing your favorite opera selections," Tom said.   
  
"As well as other selections in my repertoire," the Doctor replied, his smile smug.   
  
"How modest of you to name the building after yourself, Doctor," Harry said sarcastically.   
  
"Actually, there are thousands of EMH's in the galaxy now, so the name is a tribute to the combined loyalty and unselfish service of all my brethren in Starfleet--"   
  
"Where is the sickbay?" B'Elanna demanded, pressing against Tom for a closer look. "I hope you're planning to provide medical care sometime in between your opera performances, not to mention provisions for the children who will be born as the colony expands."   
  
"Of course." The Doctor pointed to a spot on the PADD screen. "The infirmary is right here. Don't worry, Lieutenant. I've already considered the needs of a growing colony, including expanded child care. Your baby will be in good hands."   
  
"If she's born in the next six days," Harry said. "This is a just a holoprogram."   
  
Chakotay decided it was time to get things back on track. "Doctor, fascinating as your detailed plans are, Mister Kim is right. This is a simulation encompassing the first six days of a colony raising, so I think we should concentrate on the basics. We need protection from the elements first of all, so we'll start with the dormitories that will provide initial shelter for everyone, and a storage building for our food supplies. The rest of the buildings are secondary." Some more so than others, but he left that unsaid.   
  
"We don't have much to work with," Harry noted glumly, looking at the small pile of prefab materials and tools that had been "salvaged" from Voyager, along with a single portable power generator.   
  
"I've worked with less," Chakotay replied. "If we can get the first dormitory up by tonight, it will save us having to sleep crammed under the emergency tarps."   
  
Harry frowned. "No one is really going to be sleeping here, are they?"   
  
"No," Chakotay replied. The captain had ordered that the program run only seventeen hours a day so it wouldn't tax the crew or compromise the running of the ship. "But we are acting as if we would be sleeping here, so we need shelter built within a day. We'll divide by tasks. Chell and Megan Delaney have already consulted with Neelix on teams to handle food storage and procurement. Part of their job will be foraging in the local area for edible fruits and plants, since our food stores will only last a month, even with careful rationing."   
  
Several crewmembers who had been wandering curiously nearby drifted closer as Chakotay spoke. "Lieutenant Torres has put together engineering teams to deal with setting up a power grid, and locating local energy sources to serve our needs, as well as adapting the energy from one of the two Class 2 shuttles we were able to recover. We'll keep the other shuttle intact for future use."   
  
"It's too bad the Delta Flyer was lost along with Voyager," Tom said, giving the Doctor an aggrieved look. "It would have come in a lot more useful than a Class 2 shuttle."   
  
"It seems a little arbitrary," Henley agreed. "We could just as well have kept Voyager in orbit and salvaged everything. It would at least be nice to have some portable replicators and one of the computer cores."   
  
The Doctor shrugged. "In this scenario, Voyager sustained too much damage from the anomaly to land. Starfleet protocol requires an abandoned ship be destroyed rather than allowing its technology to potentially fall into the wrong hands."   
  
"You're right, Ensign, it is arbitrary," Chakotay said. "So is reality. If we ever do have to colonize, we'll just have to take the nearest class M planet available, if there is one. And there's no way to predict what we'll be able to salvage. If you recall, several years ago we were almost forced to colonize a planet with nothing but the clothes on our backs, thanks to the Kazon. In this case, the Doctor's scenario has provided us with a little more than that. So let's work with it."   
  
"I'll take my team and get started," B'Elanna said, and Chakotay threw her a grateful look.   
  
"I can enhance the systems of the existing shuttle for atmospheric flight," Tom said.   
  
"A good idea, Tom, but not a concern at the moment. Right now the priority is getting the first buildings erected and our food supply stabilized. Have you ever used a saw or a hammer?"   
  
"Once or twice," Tom admitted, reluctantly.   
  
Chakotay smiled. "Well, now you'll be getting some more practice. Everyone here who isn't part of Lieutenant Torres' engineering team, you're part of the construction team. The tools we were able to salvage from Voyager's cargo bays are gathered next to the prefab materials. Grab the saws, because the first thing we have to do is cut down some trees."   
  
Several groans greeted that statement. B'Elanna, who looked amused, spared a murmured word or two for Tom, and quick pat on his backside before she led her team away. The Doctor turned to Chakotay once the rest had moved toward the prefab materials and tools, looking peeved. "This is my drill. Shouldn't I be giving the orders?"   
  
"This will be a Starfleet colony, Doctor, at least in the building stages, and I am the highest ranking officer here. I also have some experience with colonies."   
  
"New Earth?" the Doctor asked, his tone dismissive.   
  
"Among others. I also grew up on a colony world, Doctor, in case you've forgotten."   
  
The Doctor's only reply to that was "hmmph," a good sign.   
  
"Shall we join the others?"   
  
The Doctor looked at the group of a dozen or so now picking through the tools. "Join them?"   
  
"Of course, Doctor. When a Starfleet team erects a colony site, there are no sideliners, not even the captain or the senior officers in charge. Everyone pitches in." He smiled and slapped the Doctor on the back. "Come on. Let's get to work."   
  
^*^*^*^   
  
Nearly six hours later, Janeway approached the colony site where a good number of her crew were busy at various tasks. The new settlement boundaries had been marked, and two foundations had been poured, presumably with the duracrete from the empty bags discarded nearby. There was a river a short distance away if she accurately recalled the Doctor's brief description of the chosen site, probably where she could see a line of trees to the west. She skirted a large pile of yellow lumber and prefab panels, and watched a dozen of her crew hammering at the frame of the first building. Some, like Gerron and Michael Ayala, looked like they were very comfortable with the job, while others, like Tal Celes and William Chapman, looked less at ease. She noted offhandedly that Chakotay was visible over at the second building, looking like he was in his element--   
  
"Captain! You're here!"   
  
Janeway turned and met the Doctor's pleased smile. "This is the time you assigned me, Doctor." Actually, she was a few minutes early.   
  
"As you can see, we've made quite a bit of progress."   
  
She supposed so. Though she had little experience to judge, she knew her crew had learned to make quick work of any necessary task.   
  
"We?" Harry grumbled loudly. He was working close enough to overhear the Doctor's words. "You've barely hammered in a nail, Doc."   
  
Before the Doctor could speak, a loud "Ouch" erupted over the steady pounding and low murmur of conversation, followed by a colorful curse in Bajoran. Tal Celes, who was working on the other side of Harry, was cradling her hand, a grimace of pain on her face.   
  
"Again, Crewman?" the Doctor asked, heaving a long-suffering sigh as he pulled out his field medical regenerator and stepped into the open frame building, still directing his conversation to the captain. "Lieutenant Kim thinks I've been loafing, but I've treated two dozen smashed thumbs now, and a nearly equal number of bruised toes from dropped power saws. It's amazing we have made any progress, and it's clear the crew needed this drill even more than I thought."   
  
Celes rolled her eyes at the Doctor's bent head as he ran the regenerator over her thumb, then caught the captain's gaze. "I guess some of us aren't cut out for carpentry," she said sheepishly.   
  
Janeway smiled. "Just do the best you can."   
  
"It's a good thing the safeties are at full capacity," the Doctor said as he shut off the regenerator. "They correct for anything but minor injuries. If this were a real planet, there wouldn't be any such reprieve. Try to concentrate on what you're doing, Crewman, and be more careful."   
  
"Lucky for you, we're done for now," Tom told Celes, as he set down his hammer.   
  
Celes gave him a droll look. "And how's your foot, Paris?"   
  
Tom grinned. "Fine, now."   
  
Janeway was glad to see Celes smiling and showing so much spirit. She and Billy Telfer had become close to Mortimer Harren after their shuttle mission, and Harren's death had been difficult for Celes.   
  
"Captain," the Doctor spoke, and Janeway gratefully shifted her attention from the ache that had settled in her chest. "What do you think of this site? It is a rather pleasing vista, aesthetically speaking, isn't it?"   
  
"It is sufficient to serve a colony's needs," Seven said as she stopped next to Janeway. She looked at the Doctor and raised an eyebrow. "That is the only requirement, is it not?"   
  
"An aesthetically pleasing environment may not be strictly necessary, Seven, but humans and most other sentient species consider it an important qualification." The Doctor spoke in his most professorial tone. "In fact, I used an amalgamation of all the uninhabited class M planets we have catalogued in the past three months--eleven in total--and combined their characteristics into an 'average' planet waiting to be colonized."   
  
"Perhaps you should have programmed the most difficult planet to colonize rather than an average planet, if your purpose is to challenge the skills of the crew."   
  
"This planet will do," Janeway said quickly. The Doctor was right. It was a pleasant enough place, with its bluish grass and scattered wide-branched trees, and gently sloping hills melting into the distance. The last thing she wanted was a planet where they had to clear land in a swamp or fight heatstroke in a desert.   
  
"I made sure to include an obstacle or two, so the crew will be well tested."   
  
Janeway didn't like that cryptic comment. "Doctor, maybe we should stick with a standard scenario, without any extra...bells and whistles, as Lieutenant Paris would say."   
  
The Doctor was saved from a reply by Chakotay's arrival. "Captain, ready for your rotation?"   
  
Janeway looked at the hammer Chakotay held out to her, and cocked an eyebrow. "I'm sure I won't have any problem. I have handled a hammer before."   
  
"Of course," Chakotay said, in a smooth tone Janeway decided was just a little patronizing as she snatched the hammer from him.   
  
"Those will house the entire crew of Voyager?" Seven asked. Her attention was focused on the two unfinished dormitories.   
  
"Temporarily," Chakotay answered her. "I know that doesn't afford anyone much privacy, but the first order is to ensure that our basic needs of food and shelter are met. Once that is taken care of, then we will build individual residences."   
  
"I don't think B'Elanna and I can wait too long for that," Tom commented as he joined them, earning an annoyed look from the Doctor, and a snort from Harry.   
  
"This is a limited simulation," Janeway said, a little sharply. "You'll be going back to your quarters every night, Mister Paris."   
  
"I know. I'm just trying to play along with the program, and six days would be a long time to--" Tom stopped abruptly at Janeway's warning look. "Never mind."   
  
"Doctor, what is my assigned duty?"   
  
The Doctor looked pleased Seven had asked him. "Lieutenant Torres is returning with her engineering crew right now. She can brief you on their progress with the power grid."   
  
Seven nodded and strode toward B'Elanna and her group, who were gathered near the pile of salvaged materials.   
  
"You can also join the engineering team, Captain," the Doctor suggested.   
  
Janeway glanced at Chakotay, and shook her head. "I'll leave that to the actual engineers, and stick with the construction crew." If nothing else, hammering nails would provide the physical release she hadn't had time to pursue lately in her Velocity program.   
  
"Samantha Wildman just arrived. She is a trained medic, in case you do miss with that hammer."   
  
Janeway gave Chakotay her best freezing look, though he just flashed her a grin in return. She saw Joe Carey, Sam, and Naomi approaching the settlement, looking around with open curiosity.   
  
"As a hologram I don't need to sleep or eat, so I will be staying in the program for the duration," the Doctor said. "Unless I am needed in Sickbay," he added hastily.   
  
Janeway could see the Doctor was already captivated by his own program. "As long as you are aware of your priorities, Doctor."   
  
"Of course."   
  
B'Elanna approached, rubbing her arms and frowning. "Is the weather changing?"   
  
Janeway glanced up at the sky, where fast moving gray clouds were starting to gather.   
  
"Ah, we may get some rain," the Doctor observed. "I believe it occurs frequently here in the summer."   
  
B'Elanna rolled her eyes. "Great. A planet where it rains all the time. I'm glad I'm leaving."   
  
Tom put an arm around her shoulders, and they headed toward the open holo-arch with several others. Janeway looked up at the sky again. She figured if she got really lucky, she would be hammering together the rest of the dormitory frame while soaking wet. Everyone else had moved a few meters away so she said in a low voice to Chakotay, "If I open a direct comm line to you, think of some sort of emergency on the bridge that requires my attention."   
  
"I'm sure I can handle any emergencies, Captain. You've trained me well."   
  
Janeway gave him a disgusted look.   
  
"Have fun," Chakotay said cheerfully, before he turned and headed for the open arch.   
  
Several fat drops of rain fell on Janeway's face and arms, and she sighed as she lifted her hammer and walked toward the first dormitory. The sooner she got started, the sooner they'd all get through the Doctor's drill and back to their real lives.   
  



	3. Act 2

**Act 2**   
  
The first rotation of the second day was underway, and the Doctor was complaining. "We're falling behind schedule."   
  
Tom snorted. "Yesterday you said we were making good progress." He bit into a ration bar and grimaced, glad he only had to eat one meal a day in this program. He was already anticipating a good steak for dinner.   
  
Harry glared at the Doctor. "Most of us are new at this, Doc."   
  
"Which is exactly the reason for this drill, Lieutenant."   
  
"You could have made the weather more cooperative," Tom groused. The rain had stopped for the moment, but he was still damp. It could be worse though. After the third rotation of colonists yesterday had endured a downpour, he'd figured out that wearing his uniform wasn't a good idea, even stripped down to the regulation t-shirt. Today he was wearing a non-regulation cotton shirt and pants, and quite a few others had chosen more comfortable clothing also. The Doctor had immediately questioned the likelihood of salvaging their clothing; but a hastily packed duffel wasn't impossible in the time frame of his evacuation, so he'd let it stand.   
  
"Weather is a changeable phenomenon, Mister Paris. If you're going to be an asset to a colony, you should be able to function under even the most uncomfortable circumstances. A little rain is far from that."   
  
"That's easy to say when you're a hologram," Pablo Baytart said sourly. "You don't really get wet."   
  
The Doctor shrugged. "I realize that I am superior to organic beings in virtually every area, but I can't help that, Mister Baytart."   
  
Tom wasn't the only one who rolled his eyes.   
  
"At least the rain does cool things off," Lora Jenkins commented, seeing the bright side as usual.   
  
"And we had the mess hall foundation poured before the rain started."   
  
"Good thing," Tom agreed with Marla Gilmore. Duracrete set almost immediately, but it would have been impossible to pour it in the middle of a rainstorm.   
  
"We have constructed two buildings in twenty-three hours," Icheb said. "Given the lack of prior experience, I believe the crew's performance has been commendable."   
  
"Yeah." Tom grinned as the Doctor gave Icheb an annoyed look. Icheb had joined the construction crew today and had taken immediately to it, as he did to virtually all things. He was one of those people who were annoyingly proficient at everything they did, but Tom still couldn't help liking him. And he was also glad to see Icheb looking more relaxed after the displaced guilt that had weighed him down just a few weeks ago. "You seem to be enjoying this."   
  
"I always appreciate broadening my knowledge with new experiences, Lieutenant Paris," Icheb said. "Besides benefiting physical health, did you know that strenuous physical activity releases endorphins in most humanoid species that relieve emotional and mental stress?"   
  
Tom grinned. "I do recall that fact. A few things the Doctor has taught me have actually rubbed off."   
  
"Nice to know my efforts have not been completely in vain," the Doctor said dryly.   
  
"Are you also enjoying the program, Lieutenant Paris?" Icheb asked.   
  
"Ah, Mister Neelix and his party have returned," the Doctor noted, diverting everyone's attention. "It looks like they are bringing something to garnish the 'blocks of cinder' as I believe you called the Starfleet rations, Mister Baytart."   
  
Neelix, Naomi and Renley Sharr were headed their way, all carrying full sacks. They'd gone to the woods near the river to scavenge for edible plants and fruits, and apparently they'd been successful.   
  
"Bringing us gifts?" Jenkins asked eagerly.   
  
Neelix let the sack he'd been carrying drop to the ground. He smiled widely as he pulled it open. "We have berries we found on bushes by the riverbank, and this lovely yellow fruit that grows on some trees in the same area." He held up the item in question, a plump yellow fruit the size of an orange. "I have it on Naomi's authority that it tastes like a cross between a peach and a strawberry."   
  
Naomi grinned and nodded, but the Doctor spoke before she could. "I assume you analyzed the fruit before you allowed Naomi to eat it."   
  
Neelix, who'd been foraging for foodstuff to supplement supplies on Voyager for years, looked offended. "Of course we did. We know better than to eat anything that isn't thoroughly tested."   
  
"Excellent," the Doctor replied. "Be frugal," he added, as Neelix began passing out the yellow fruits while Naomi and Sharr offered everyone handfuls of the lavender berries. "We have limited rations and grain stores, and it will be many weeks before any crops are produced from our seed stock."   
  
"I sure wish someone would cure the Doctor of his Napoleon complex," Harry muttered under his breath as Naomi offered him some berries.   
  
"How likely is that?" Tom murmured, then returned Naomi's grin as she handed him his share of berries.   
  
"How is the mess hall coming?" Neelix asked eagerly, although he could see for himself.   
  
"If we apply ourselves, it should be finished by the end of the day," the Doctor said. "For the moment it will also serve as a general meeting place, until we can add another building to serve that purpose."   
  
"Don't start decorating too soon," Tom told Neelix.   
  
"Can't we think of a better name than 'mess hall'?" Marla asked. "Something more suitable to a planetary environment?"   
  
"Right," Baytart agreed. "On a planet an eating establishment is a restaurant, and it usually has a name. Maybe we could call it something like 'Neelix's Place'." He grinned at Neelix.   
  
"A restaurant," Neelix repeated, clearly pleased with the concept. "I suppose that's what it would be."   
  
"My aunt in Wyoming has a restaurant called 'Monica's Grub'," Jenkins commented.   
  
"Neelix's Grub..." Naomi, who had settled herself next to Icheb, tried out that title.   
  
"On Rynax it was common to name a restaurant after its most popular dish," Neelix said.   
  
"Anything but 'The Leola Root,' Neelix," Marla begged.   
  
"Unfortunately leola root won't be available on the colony." Neelix shook his head sadly, though nobody else looked particularly heartbroken. "But I do remember a little cafe on Rynax called 'The Grilled Intestine.' The food there was quite tasty--"   
  
"Yuck!" Naomi practically shrieked. "That is _not_ a good name for a restaurant, Neelix. You won't get any customers."   
  
"That would not be the case, since it will be the only place to eat in the settlement--"   
  
Naomi rolled her eyes, and Tom rescued Icheb from his literal nature. "Maybe you should go with something less body part oriented, Neelix. You could always stick with a classic, like 'Chez Neelix'."   
  
"Chez Neelix," Neelix repeated. He smiled. "It does have a certain ring to it."   
  
"Speaking of names, Doctor, is there going to be a name for our colony?" Sharr asked.   
  
The Doctor pursed his lips thoughtfully. "That is a very good question, Crewman. I'll let you know as soon as I come up with one."   
  
Tom snorted. "If it's going to take as long as it has to come up with your own name, don't bother."   
  
"What on Earth!"   
  
Everyone turned at Jenkins's exclamation to see several people running toward the settlement site from a small rise just to the north. It took only a moment to recognize one of the engineering teams that had gone in that direction earlier to check out some nearby mineral deposits.   
  
"What is the great rush, Mister Mulcahey?" the Doctor asked, as the ensign reached him and doubled over with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.   
  
"We saw a...thing!"   
  
The Doctor's eyebrows rose. "A...thing?"   
  
"An animal," Freddie Bristow clarified as he stopped next to Mulcahey, breathing hard himself. "It was huge, at least three meters tall, maybe four, and it was bipedal and very hairy. It looked like those pictures of an ancient animal on Earth called Bigfoot."   
  
Tom let out a bark of laughter, then covered it with a cough. "Uh, Bigfoot was a myth, Freddie."   
  
"Maybe on Earth, but you should have seen this thing. It was huge!" Mulcahey spread his arms for effect.   
  
"Is this true, Lieutenant?" the Doctor asked as Joe Carey arrived at a more leisurely lope, with Vorik following a few steps behind at an equally unhurried pace.   
  
Joe shrugged. "I didn't see it. Neither did Vorik."   
  
"Mulcahey and I were a few meters away, finishing our readings on some rocks, when it suddenly appeared in front of us," Freddie said.   
  
"Did it try to attack you?" Jenkins asked.   
  
Mulcahey frowned. "I don't know. We ran."   
  
"Maybe it just wanted to ask for directions."   
  
Sharr and Baytart sniggered, while the Doctor shot Harry a quelling look.   
  
"It could be a sentient species." Tom grinned. "We should try to make first contact and shake its hand or something."   
  
"We did a complete survey of the planet, Mister Paris," the Doctor said tartly. "There are no sentient species."   
  
"We did not catalogue any animals of this size either," Vorik pointed out.   
  
"Standard surveys do sometimes miss small populations of flora and fauna. In any case, it was probably more frightened of you than you were of it."   
  
Mulcahey and Bristow gave the Doctor a look a pure disbelief.   
  
"You have phasers with you as a precaution when you leave the settlement boundaries. If anyone encounters such an animal again, it should be a simple matter to stun it if it makes a threatening move."   
  
Tom wondered if the Doctor knew more about the animal than he was revealing. He'd programmed the simulation after all, even if he claimed he'd used general parameters and had let the computer fill in the specifics.   
  
"I hope I don't run into it," Jenkins said a little nervously.   
  
"This is a holoprogram," Harry reminded her. "It can't hurt you."   
  
"I think we should go look for it, like Tom said."   
  
That's not exactly what he'd said, but Tom grinned at Naomi. "You name the time, and I'll bring my bat'leth just in case." When Harry rolled his eyes he added, "I'm sure Harry will want to come too."   
  
"At the moment we have more pressing matters to attend to," the Doctor reminded them. "Break time is over. This is an official drill, don't forget."   
  
"I think I would rather hunt Bigfoot than pound any more nails," Harry muttered.   
  
"Only three more hours, Har," Tom said encouragingly. The look Harry sent him for that reminder wasn't one of gratitude.   
  
Tom rose with everyone else, and stretched. His back protested a little, though not as strenuously as it had last night. The back rub B'Elanna had given him had alleviated most of the ache. He had a feeling he'd need another one tonight, though it would have to be late, since B'Elanna would be in the program during its third rotation.   
  
As he followed the rest toward unfinished mess hall, he realized he hadn't answered Icheb's question. Raising a colony was a lot of physical work, but he had to admit there were benefits, like fresh air and sunshine--when the sun peaked through. He also felt a sense of satisfaction helping to build something, much the way he'd felt designing and helping build the Delta Flyer. Besides, once the initial construction was completed, there would be other things to focus on, like the existing shuttle. He had already thought of several ways to upgrade it, at least until he could get together the materials to build another version of the Flyer. It wouldn't be able to sustain warp drive and transporters, since those required energy sources that weren't available here; though with B'Elanna's mind, and Seven's, no doubt that hurdle could eventually be crossed--   
  
Tom stopped and shook his head, reminding himself that this was a simulation. It was surprisingly easy to forget and to get immersed in the surroundings, even for just a few hours. Colony life had never before held any intrinsic appeal to him, but the truth was, when he thought of everything the crew had gone through over the past several weeks and the losses they'd endured, for the first time he could see some distinct advantages in the concept of colonization.   
  
^*^*^*^   
  
Janeway finished her last check on the wiring, satisfied with her work. When dusk fell in another thirty minutes or so, the women's dormitory would have light. It would be fundamental wired electricity, but it would suffice. It would also be a tight squeeze, with seventy-one women and one teenage girl sharing the two-story space, sleeping four or six to a room, on woven mats on the floor for the time being. At least they would be able to see where they were going when they went outside to attend to basic needs in the temporary lavatories, since the plumbing wouldn't be completely functional until tomorrow.   
  
That would all be if any of this were real of course, which thankfully it wasn't. The lighting wouldn't even be much of a factor, since the program was running only seventeen hours a day--coincidentally from dawn to dusk at the simulated colony site, where it was early summer. That had been one of her conditions, since she needed her crew well rested to carry out their duties on Voyager--emergency procedures drill or not--   
  
"How's it going?"   
  
Janeway looked up at her first officer, and rose to her feet. "The women's dormitory has electricity."   
  
"Did anyone ever explain why the women get electricity first, and the men won't have it until tomorrow?"   
  
Janeway couldn't help grinning at Chakotay's wry look. "I don't know. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that the person in charge of the energy allotment schedule is our chief engineer."   
  
"You women always stick together, don't you?" Chakotay joked.   
  
Janeway smirked, but didn't bother to answer. "I thought you were working on the mess hall roof."   
  
"I'm on my way back there. I was just taking a break to stretch." He pressed his hands to his lower back. "The ship's standard fitness programs don't really prepare you for this kind of physical work. I guess I'm not in as good of shape as I thought I was."   
  
From Janeway's viewpoint there wasn't a noticeable problem, though she'd had a few unexpected aches herself. She was grateful for the bathtub in her quarters, since she'd indulged in a long hot soak last night. "Believe me, it's not any more fun installing this wiring."   
  
"What makes you think I'm not having fun?"   
  
"This is an emergency procedures drill," Janeway reminded him. "They aren't supposed to be fun."   
  
"Most of the time they're not, but I have to give the Doctor credit for putting a new twist on it."   
  
"Still, building a colony from scratch isn't something most people aspire to, or find an entertaining pastime."   
  
Chakotay's eyebrows rose at her dismissive tone. "I wouldn't say that. So far I've heard a handful of complaints, mostly weather-related, but most of the crew seem to be finding this the diversion we hoped it would be. According to the Doctor, stress levels are down, and it also gives everyone something else to talk about in the mess hall--the real mess hall--other than our recent confrontations with the Borg."   
  
Janeway had noticed that most of her crew seemed enthusiastic about the drill, despite some initially voiced doubts. That bothered her in some way she couldn't quite fathom.   
  
"Captain." Tuvok's deep voice rang out as he approached. "Commander," he also acknowledged Chakotay. "I believe we should install a defense perimeter around the settlement at the first opportunity."   
  
"Heard about the 'Bigfoot' incident?"   
  
Tuvok's eyebrow rose at Chakotay's jaunty question. "Yes, though the accuracy of the eyewitness description is questionable."   
  
"Have there been any new encounters?" Janeway asked.   
  
"Not to my knowledge. However, several large felines have also been spotted in the distance. Though everyone is carrying phasers outside of the settlement boundaries, it is not feasible to always be armed within the boundaries, nor is a phaser a reliable defense in darkness, or in the event of an attack from behind. It would be prudent to protect ourselves, and our supplies, to every extent possible."   
  
"Check with B'Elanna," Chakotay suggested. "She's been finalizing the installation of the power grid. If there is enough power to divert to a limited ground-based force field, that would probably be the best option."   
  
"I will suggest that the field be given the highest priority. Excuse me."   
  
Janeway watched Tuvok leave in search of B'Elanna, and Chakotay said, "I wonder what priority B'Elanna will place on a force field?"   
  
Janeway shrugged. "Whatever B'Elanna and Tuvok decide, it won't matter in four days."   
  
Chakotay looked at Janeway silently for several moments before he spoke. "The point of a drill is to act as if it's real, but you're right; it is only a holoprogram. So why don't you relax and enjoy it?"   
  
Janeway frowned. "I told you, this really isn't my idea of fun. Though you seem to be enjoying it enough for both of us."   
  
Chakotay's eyebrows rose at her sardonic tone. "Maybe I am. I seem to recall you enjoyed a similar situation once, on New Earth."   
  
Janeway had some cherished memories of New Earth, but the two situations had nothing in common, and not just because this was a holoprogram. "That was different."   
  
"Right. Voyager was back on its way to the Alpha Quadrant, as far as we knew. You could let go because you believed you'd kept your promise to get your crew home, with the bonus of having martyred yourself for your cause."   
  
Janeway's mouth dropped slightly open. "What?"   
  
Chakotay gave her a crooked smile that displayed his dimples, and dropped a hand on her shoulder. "Self-sacrifice is a noble thing, sometimes."   
  
Sometimes? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Janeway shook his hand away. "I made a promise to get them home, Chakotay. And I plan to keep it."   
  
Chakotay's expression sobered, and he nodded. "I know. But home is a word that can have a lot of different meanings, Kathryn. It's not always a matter of place."   
  
Janeway stared after Chakotay as he walked away. Her promise to her crew wasn't one that was open to interpretation. Home was the Alpha Quadrant, nothing more or less, where families and friends were anxiously awaiting their return. If achieving that goal meant she had to make sacrifices...well, she was a Starfleet captain, and personal sacrifices came with the territory. As for New Earth, she hadn't exactly felt like a martyr there...   
  
She glared at Chakotay's departing figure as he strode toward the mess hall. Then she smiled at the thought that hit her as she watched him. If nothing else, this program was giving her crew a physical workout, which only improved the view of a certain backside in a tight pair of jeans.   
  
Janeway watched that backside until Chakotay turned the corner of the men's dormitory, and her smiled widened at the frivolous direction of her thoughts. "So take that, Number One."   
  
^*^*^*^   
  
If B'Elanna turned around from her work at the now gutted shuttlecraft Sagan's exterior starboard engine nacelle, she knew she would see the Sacajawea twenty meters away from her, on the flattened patch of grass that would eventually be a landing field for the fleet of shuttles Tom had already started planning. But she didn't have to look to know the other shuttle was there, and that her husband was working inside. Music--loud and cacophonous--spilled out of the open door. It was the rock music Tom often favored, and even at this distance she could make out some of the words- -"I feel good...I knew that I would..."   
  
A small smile touched B'Elanna's lips. She knew that was one of his favorites, and as long as she was far enough away, the screeching vocals and blaring music didn't bother her. They hadn't talked in detail about it, but she knew Tom was enjoying himself in this program--not that there was a holoprogram in existence he didn't find enjoyable. On the other hand, she'd been far less enthusiastic. There were still a substantial number of minor repairs to be completed in Engineering, and she was frustrated at the current status of her personal project. But once she'd gotten involved in this program, she'd found it surprisingly appealing doing something so removed from her regular work. It was a challenge installing the power grid, and figuring out how to convert the raw materials around them into useful energy, all without the high tech resources she was used to having at hand. Well, she wasn't thrilled about Tuvok's insistence that she allocate time and resources to setting up a security perimeter, but she supposed that could be considered part of the challenge too.   
  
Tom had been right. The crew had needed the distraction, and it showed in her engineering staff's renewed concentration on their work despite their extra hours on duty because of the drill. Now she realized she had needed the distraction too, after weeks of red alerts, invasions, emergency repairs, then more red alerts, more invasions, more emergency repairs, in what had seemed like a never-ending loop. She would never admit it, but she also felt a sense of total relaxation here that she hadn't felt in a while. She welcomed it.   
  
The Doctor wanted them to take this program seriously, and certainly, if it were real, there would be dangers to consider, but they were straightforward and easily handled dangers. On Voyager, the lives of the entire crew often hinged on her split second decisions and fixes, not to mention the lives of those serving directly under her in Engineering. And when her decisions resulted in losses, in the sacrifice of some of those lives...   
  
B'Elanna loosened the nacelle power converter panel with a vicious tug. She knew she wasn't alone. Janeway felt the weight of her decisions even more keenly, since hers were so often the final word. And they all felt the weight of their recent losses. She'd never give up her beloved Engineering or Voyager willingly, but she realized that she might actually miss this program a little when it ended in three more days--   
  
"Hey, Hon, can you toss me that spanner next to you?"   
  
B'Elanna looked at her husband, who had poked his head out of the Sacajawea's doorway, and cocked a meaningful eyebrow at him. The tools she'd been using, some of which he'd been sharing, were scattered on the grass near her. She shouted back at him, "I'm at a critical juncture."   
  
Tom hopped to the ground, wiping his hands on his jeans as he strode toward her. A few moments later he picked up the spanner. "Never mind. Got it."   
  
B'Elanna rolled her eyes at his insouciant grin. "So I see. And don't call me that in public."   
  
He gave her a bewildered look before realization dawned on his face. He sometimes slipped and addressed her by the kind of endearment she didn't like him to use outside their private quarters. He glanced around, where there was obviously no one close enough to have heard. Then he said, "Sorry, Sweetheart."   
  
B'Elanna's mock glare didn't even budge the shameless smile off his face. He crouched next to her. "How's your work coming?"   
  
"The rest of these power packs should improve the power grid's performance," B'Elanna said. "Although once I add the parameters of Tuvok's security force field, it will be strained to the limit. Harry should be here any minute to help me--or now."   
  
"Hey, Harry," Tom called, as Harry approached with several tools in hand, accompanied by Jenny Delaney and Tran Nguyen. "When you're done helping B'Elanna, I could use a hand in the Sacajawea."   
  
Harry shrugged. "Sure."   
  
"You're lucky you're not assigned with us," Jenny said.   
  
"What are you two doing this lovely morning?" Tom asked them.   
  
Nguyen grimaced. "We get to help construct the storage building. Commander Chakotay decided it should take precedence over the infirmary, since the Doctor can treat his patients on location as he's been doing, or set aside a corner of the mess hall for any serious injuries."   
  
Tom snorted. "I bet the Doctor was thrilled to find out he has to make house calls."   
  
Nguyen grinned. "He argued with Commander Chakotay about it, but I guess the commander won."   
  
"I'd just like to know how soon we get to build individual housing," Jenny said. "There's no privacy at all in those dorms."   
  
"But there is protection from the elements," B'Elanna replied, though she didn't think she would last very long in a dormitory environment either. She'd become too used to her private quarters, and later, to Tom's presence.   
  
"Easy for you to say. You two will probably be the first to get your own house here because you're married."   
  
Tom gave Nguyen a complacent smile. "True. It does make sense that the first to get some privacy will be those who are married or in a committed relationship. And we have a baby on the way."   
  
"That's still not fair," Jenny wailed. "It's discrimination against the unattached."   
  
B'Elanna rolled her eyes at the stellar cartographer's dramatics; and Tom said unsympathetically, "Sorry, Jen."   
  
Jenny refocused her gaze on Harry. "Hey, Harry, want to get married?"   
  
Harry's eyes went wide, and he stared at Jenny, appalled.   
  
"We'd get our own place a lot faster."   
  
Harry finally found his voice. "That's hardly a reason to get married!"   
  
Nguyen snickered. "I can just see the captain performing hasty ceremonies for everyone who wants to be on the fast track to their own lodgings."   
  
"So, would it be okay if my sister moved in with us?"   
  
Tom guffawed, but Harry glared at Jenny. "This is a holoprogram, Jenny! You live in your own quarters on Voyager."   
  
Jenny shrugged. "I was just speaking hypothetically. But if you're refusing my proposal, fine. Come on, Tran."   
  
"Give Harry a little time to think about it," Tom called as they walked off. "He might change his mind."   
  
Jenny looked back and grinned, but Harry scowled at Tom. "Don't encourage her."   
  
"She was just joking, Harry."   
  
B'Elanna smiled. "It was kind of funny, Starfleet." She sometimes found Jenny's absurd brand of humor a little annoying; but Harry's expression had been priceless; and Jenny hadn't been serious, probably.   
  
"I have to get back to work," Tom said. "I'm almost finished optimizing the Sacajawea's systems for atmospheric flight."   
  
B'Elanna shook her head at him. "Here I had always wondered how a free-spirited flyboy like you would possibly handle being planet-bound."   
  
Tom grinned back. "Atmospheric flying does have its thrills. Imagine all the surveys that will need to be made. We'll need a whole shuttle fleet. I meant to ask you, do you think there are enough raw materials here to build a new Flyer?"   
  
B'Elanna nodded. "At least a modified one, though it will take a few months to get the materials together. There's no dilithium here, so the propulsion will be limited to--"   
  
"I don't believe this!"   
  
Tom and B'Elanna both stared at Harry, who looked agitated. "Don't believe what?" Tom asked.   
  
"You're planning a new Flyer, the Doctor's creating his dream concert hall, Neelix is about to instigate a lottery to name his 'restaurant.' This is a six day emergency procedures drill! What _is_ it with all of you?"   
  
"We're...having fun?" Tom suggested blandly.   
  
B'Elanna gave her husband a sharp look, though she wasn't sure why Harry was so upset either.   
  
"You're acting like this is real!"   
  
Tom shook his head. "I think we know the difference, Harry. Though if it was real, there are some things I could get used to here."   
  
"What about getting home?" Harry demanded. "After how far we've come, and everything we've been through to get to this point, you'd be willing to give up and colonize a planet?"   
  
"Who said anything about giving up? Nobody has yet, but considering everything we have been through, our luck could run out one day. I'm just saying if we were forced to colonize, I could probably learn to accept it."   
  
"You don't care how disappointed all our families would be, including yours, if we didn't get home?"   
  
Tom sighed heavily. "I didn't say that. Though if it ever happens, we could probably rig a satellite to access the datastream so we could keep in contact with our families. Heck, Starfleet might invent a new warp technology, or find a wormhole and send a ship for us. Either way, we wouldn't be completely cut off--"   
  
"But it wouldn't be the same!"   
  
B'Elanna decided it was time to intervene. "Hey, this is all a moot point. Right now Voyager on a direct course for the Alpha Quadrant at warp eight."   
  
"Right," Tom agreed. "This is only a holoprogram, Harry, as you've reminded us about a dozen times now."   
  
"Right," Harry said. "We're still committed to getting home, most of us, anyway."   
  
Tom stared at Harry silently for a moment, then shrugged. "I've said it before, Harry. Getting back to the Federation is not that big a priority for me. I'm going back to work on the Sacajawea."   
  
B'Elanna put a hand on Tom's arm before he could turn away. "Tom--"   
  
"Uh, sorry, am I interrupting something?"   
  
"Nope," Tom said easily, though B'Elanna could feel the tension in him. "What's up, Gerry?"   
  
"I wrenched my shoulder so the Doctor took me off the construction crew for today." Ensign Culhane rubbed the affected shoulder. "He told me to check and see if you needed help on the Sacajawea."   
  
"I could use some assistance." Tom slipped his arm from B'Elanna's grip and kissed her on the cheek. "See you in a while. Harry, if you have time later, I could still use your help on the Sacajawea's engine manifold."   
  
Harry nodded stiffly, and B'Elanna watched Tom and Culhane walk to the Sacajawea before she turned to Harry. "What was that all about?"   
  
Harry frowned for a moment before he spoke. "This is a holoprogram, and everyone is acting like it's real. We're constructing all these buildings; Tom's upgrading a shuttle; you're installing a power grid--it just seems like a waste of time and energy for something we're going to turn off in three days."   
  
B'Elanna shrugged. "That's the point of simulations, Harry. Design engineers build simulated engines all the time and test them before they build the real thing. The experience they gain is still valid."   
  
"But we're practicing something that we don't plan on really doing," Harry said. "And everyone seems a little too happy in this program, especially Tom."   
  
B'Elanna could tell that last part was what was really bothering Harry. "We've had it pretty grim the past month or so. I can't even remember the last time we had shore leave." Actually she could remember, since she'd picked up some promising parts for her project, and there had been that quaint little restaurant where she and Tom had eaten dinner. Even if it had been less than two months ago, it seemed longer, as if their lives had totally changed in the interim--again. "This is just a break for everyone. And look at it this way, Harry. At least there aren't any Borg here, or duplicitous ex-drones, and no real damage or casualties to deal with."   
  
Harry nodded. "I know. But Tom, for one, apparently wouldn't care if this were real. He's always so blasé about everything."   
  
B'Elanna frowned. "He's not blasé when he's flying Voyager out of danger," she said sharply. "Or helping the Doctor treat our shipmates when they're injured. He's not blasé about his friendship with you, Harry."   
  
"I didn't mean--"   
  
"Tom doesn't have the same priorities you do, and he's also very adaptable by nature. Whatever situation he's in, he'll always find some opportunity in it, some way to make it work for him." B'Elanna smiled faintly. "That's one of the things I've always admired most about him."   
  
Harry sighed. "I guess I do too. I know as long as Tom has something to fly, and a shuttle or a car to tinker on--and you and the baby--he's happy."   
  
"It's a good thing you added that last part," B'Elanna growled good-naturedly. "The truth is, I feel a lot like Tom does. As long as I have him, and her..." she pressed a hand to her belly briefly, "and you and the rest of my friends on Voyager, that's what really matters most to me. A lot of the Maquis feel the same way. We know where we stand here."   
  
"B'Elanna, you don't have anything to worry about," Harry said vehemently. "The Maquis will be pardoned. The captain all but said so."   
  
The captain was optimistic, but B'Elanna knew there were no guarantees. "Probably. But a lot of the Maquis on Voyager lost friends and family because of the Cardassian massacres and the Dominion War. Not everyone has people waiting for them back home, Harry."   
  
Harry was silent for several moments. "I'm being a jerk, aren't I?"   
  
B'Elanna tried to look stern; instead she ended up smiling. She wondered if it was Harry's shamefaced expression or this calm stage of her pregnancy that had her suddenly acting like a Betazoid counselor. "Maybe just a little. Not everyone wants the same thing, Harry, and there's nothing wrong with that. You and Tom are very different, and that's probably why you're best friends. Aside from that, this _is_ just a holoprogram. Nothing's changed. I'm still going to do everything I possibly can to get us all home."   
  
Harry gave her a shrewd look, the same one she'd been getting from various senior officers for weeks now about her secret project that wasn't so secret anymore. "I know."   
  
"Good." B'Elanna cuffed him lightly on the shoulder. "Let's get back to work."   
  
 ^*^*^*^   
  
"I think I'm still fondest of the first rotation," the Doctor said conversationally. "This third rotation does have a nice sunset, but I love the fresh scent of morning, with the dew still on the grass, and sound of birds singing..."   
  
"The birds we have observed all emit a high-pitched screech," Seven reminded him.   
  
The Doctor shrugged. "The sound of birds screeching..."   
  
"There, Seven."   
  
Icheb pointed to a hill approximately a kilometer away, and Seven nodded. "That is the location Lieutenant Carey indicated in his initial survey." She glanced at his tricorder. "Sornonium, and gold. The gold is of little value since it can be manufactured--"   
  
"Not here," the Doctor said. "At least not yet."   
  
Seven glanced at the Doctor and nodded at his correct observation. He had decided to come along on their expedition because he wanted to experience every aspect of their colonization effort. She had also noticed he was quite proprietary about his program, and though his presence on this assignment was not essential, she'd accepted it, along with his tendency to talk endlessly.   
  
"The distance is one point one three kilometers," Icheb said. "We've already traveled quite far from the settlement."   
  
"We may not make it back before dusk," Naomi said.   
  
Before the end of the third rotation, when the program would close down, Seven amended in her own mind. She did not find it as easy to "pretend" as those around her, since it was something with which she had very limited experience. Lieutenant Paris's Captain Proton program had not convinced her of the supposed charms of suspending disbelief, though many of the crew clearly were enjoying the "make believe" element in this program. She avoided making any comparisons to Unimatrix Zero, since that situation was not directly analogous. "Very well. We will return to the settlement. If we proceed in a southwest course, we will cover some ground not fully surveyed."   
  
"Pretty soon Tom can fly us around in the Sacajawea," Naomi said. "Then we won't have to walk everywhere."   
  
"The Sacajawea is currently functional," Seven pointed out. "However, it is advisable to fully familiarize ourselves with the local terrain and resources before we move further afield."   
  
"Exactly," the Doctor said, approval in his voice.   
  
"Icheb, inform Lieutenant Nicoletti's team of our heading."   
  
Seven led the way while Icheb used his commbadge to contact Lieutenant Nicoletti. Naomi moved in step with Seven as the Doctor and Icheb fell in slightly behind.   
  
"After the drill is over, maybe we can still keep building the colony," Naomi said, sounding a little wistful.   
  
"There would be no practical reason to do so," Seven said.   
  
"We could just do it for fun, like we do other holoprograms."   
  
Seven gave Naomi a curious look, wondering what prompted her inclination. She had noted that many of the crew seemed intrigued by the concept of colonization, although she'd assumed it was due to the novelty factor of the program rather than an interest in actual colonization. "Do you wish this was more than a simulation?"   
  
Naomi looked thoughtful, then she shrugged. "I don't know. I love Voyager, but..."   
  
"It has been a difficult past few weeks," Seven finished for her.   
  
Naomi nodded. "My mom was working in Sickbay after the Borg invasion, and she was the one who stitched Ken Dalby together after he died. They became pretty good friends, since they worked together in the biolab sometimes. She was really upset."   
  
"You believe if the crew had chosen to colonize a planet, Crewman Dalby would be alive today?"   
  
"Probably. I know my mom would be safer, and I wouldn't have to worry about her every time there's a red alert and I don't know where she is or if she's okay. Or if Icheb's okay, or you, or Neelix, or B'Elanna, or Tom..."   
  
"I understand. However, a colony can also have dangers. It is vulnerable to attack from space. The Borg have assimilated hundreds of colonies, some in the sector we are traveling through right now."   
  
Naomi nodded glumly. "I know you're right, Seven."   
  
Seven thought Naomi still looked uncertain. "Should Voyager be successful reaching the Alpha Quadrant, you and your mother will see your father again, and the other members your family. Do you not desire that outcome?"   
  
"Of course," Naomi said immediately. "It will be different than just talking to my father through letters. I already love him, and I know how much he misses me and my mom. I think Icheb wants to get there too, since he wants a career with Starfleet. We both want to stay in Starfleet, so we can be...well, anyway."   
  
Seven knew the reason for Naomi's evasiveness and her flushed skin. She had recognized the strong attraction between Icheb and Naomi, despite their youthfulness. It wasn't an area where she could give much advice. She had missed that stage of her individual development, and she still didn't completely understand her feelings for Axum, which had resurfaced in a strong manner when she'd contacted him again recently. She did know that she was experiencing a persistent desire to explore those feelings in more detail--   
  
"Seven, to your left!"   
  
The Doctor's shout alerted Seven, and she shoved Naomi behind her as a large feline animal appeared from behind the small outcropping of rocks two meters in front of them. It was the size of a Bengal tiger, though its dun fur was matted and scruffy. Its green eyes met Seven's and held.   
  
"Move back and let me handle this, Seven. I'm a hologram, so I can't be injured."   
  
Seven refrained from noting that this was a holoprogram, so none of them could be seriously injured. She held out a hand. "I can handle the situation, Doctor," she said, as she placed her other hand on her phaser.   
  
The cat crouched as if to pounce. Naomi drew an audible breath behind Seven. Seven considered her options in a split second, and chose the one she deemed appropriate. She raised her arms and let out a loud, long bloodcurdling scream.   
  
The cat paused in mid-motion and took several steps backwards before it turned and loped away. Seven looked at her companions, who were all staring at her in stupefied amazement. It was several seconds before anyone spoke.   
  
"Wow, Seven. That was the loudest scream I've ever heard!"   
  
Naomi's voice was full of admiration, and Seven raised an eyebrow. "It served its purpose."   
  
"Why didn't you just stun it?"   
  
The Doctor sounded irate, and Seven considered his question. "I concluded that a loud scream had a high probability of success, while avoiding any possibility of unforeseen injury to the animal." She saw the Doctor's expression soften, and knew he was recalling the last time she'd used a phaser set to stun, on the ex-drones on the Trefla. Though she appreciated the Doctor's occasional moments of perception and empathy, her reaction here had been entirely based on reason. "Had the animal kept coming, of course I would have used my phaser."   
  
"Of course," Icheb echoed as Seven's commbadge beeped.   
  
"Nicoletti to Seven."   
  
"Go ahead, Lieutenant."   
  
"We thought we heard a scream a minute ago. Is everything all right?"   
  
"Affirmative, Lieutenant."   
  
"Good." Nicoletti sounded relieved. "It seemed to come from your direction, though you're pretty far away from us. It sounded human, but I guess it must have been an animal."   
  
"It was my voice you heard," Seven replied. "However there is no cause for alarm. The situation is under control."   
  
"Okaaay..."   
  
Seven heard the mixture of doubt and curiosity in Nicoletti's voice. She offered no further information. "We will rendezvous with you back at the settlement. Seven out." She turned to the Doctor. "I believe we should proceed now, and with greater urgency."   
  
Naomi's eyes widened. "In case we meet Bigfoot?" she asked, though her grin belied any fear of such an encounter.   
  
Seven shook her head. "No. Because those clouds coming from the west are moving swiftly."   
  
A few minutes earlier there had been only an indistinct haze on the horizon, but now billowing dark clouds were visible, and clearly headed in their direction. They all heeded Seven's suggestion and began to move quickly, as Icheb asked with his typical ingenuous curiosity, "Is there a particular reason you have such a fondness for rain, Doctor?"   
  
Naomi giggled under her breath, and shot Seven a gleeful look as the Doctor began to lecture Icheb on the variables of climate. Seven acknowledged Naomi's grin with a slight upturn of her lips. She had learned that social skill from the Doctor, and though she'd found it very awkward at first, and had quite often neglected to employ it while focusing on more practical matters, she'd become more comfortable with such social gestures recently. They were particularly easy to perform with Naomi.   
  
Seven glanced at the clouds again and increased her pace, knowing the others would follow her lead. Though she was not good at pretending, she did find aspects of this drill intriguing, even challenging in their unpredictability. For instance, she considered at this moment whether, even at the fast pace she had set, they would make it to the settlement before the rain began to fall.   



	4. Act 3

Act 3 

As he entered Holodeck 1, Chakotay nearly ran into Harry Kim and Jesse Molina. He did a double take as he looked at their wet, muddy clothes and generally disheveled appearance. Harry had a cut across his cheek. "What happened to you two? 

"You haven't heard?" Harry asked. "There was a hurricane." 

"A hurricane?" He glanced up at the leaden sky, and wiped several raindrops from his face. He'd heard from Tabor last night that rain and wind were settling in as the program closed, but a hurricane? "The colony site is at least six hundred kilometers from the nearest sea." 

"That's what I told the Doctor!" Harry shook his head. "It didn't make sense, but we just spent six hours soaking wet trying to save what supplies we could after the roof collapsed on the storage building." 

Damn. They'd just finished that building. 

"You missed all the fun, Commander," Molina said, sounding like he'd actually enjoyed it. "I think the hurricane's over now." 

"Yeah. But it's still raining." Harry gave Chakotay a commiserating look. "Have fun with the clean-up." 

Chakotay watched them go. It was still raining lightly, though the wind had ceased. From the holoarch's entry spot at the settlement's eastern boundary, he couldn't see the storage building, since it was hidden by one of the dormitories--both of which looked completely intact--but he could see the debris scattered around, including some of their building materials, supplies and torn seed bags among the broken tree branches and uprooted chunks of mud. Several crewmembers were wandering among the debris, retrieving what they could. A few steps brought the storage building and mess hall into view. The mess hall appeared undamaged, and the duraplas reinforced walls of the storage building were standing, but the roof had indeed collapsed. He supposed it was a good sign that the other buildings had withstood the storm. 

He didn't see Janeway until she was right in front of him. "Captain..." 

Chakotay's voice trailed off. Kathryn Janeway was a mess. Her hair was tangled and it hung in wet clumps. Though most of the crew had abandoned their uniforms for casual clothing that was less restrictive--and more fitting to the scenario of building a permanent colony--the captain had elected to continue wearing her uniform. Chakotay figured it was a statement, but at the moment that uniform was rumpled and dirty, and there was a smudges of mud on her forehead and cheek. He cleared his throat. "I heard there was a hurricane." 

"Now you can see that it's true," Janeway said dryly. 

Chakotay plucked a leaf out of her hair and turned it over in his fingers. 

"Are you finding this amusing, Commander?" 

Chakotay shook his head. "No, ma'am." 

Janeway's eyes narrowed at that address. He couldn't remember the last time he'd called her ma'am. He was still managing not to smile, barely. She finally gave a small snort of disgust. "I have to go take a shower before I start my shift on the bridge." 

"Good idea." 

Chakotay managed to keep his expression as neutral as his voice. Beneath the dire warning in Janeway's gaze, he thought he detected a glint of humor before she turned and stalked off. 

"Chakotay!" 

B'Elanna was striding toward him, with the Doctor right behind her. 

"How long have you been here?" Chakotay asked. Since she was scheduled for the second rotation, it couldn't have been too long. 

"A few minutes. Long enough to find out that the power grid is seriously damaged." B'Elanna glared at the Doctor and wiped moisture out of her eyes. "I hate rain." 

"Be glad you weren't here at the beginning of the last rotation, Lieutenant," the Doctor said. "Everyone walked right into the middle of the hurricane. Then you would have had something to complain about." 

"Be glad my temper is tempered at the moment," B'Elanna shot back. 

The Doctor smirked. "I suppose it is fortunate for me that you are a kinder, gentler Lieutenant Torres these days." 

Chakotay spoke before B'Elanna could return another in what had probably already been a long line of verbal shots. "Doctor, what's going on? A hurricane is not a very likely development in this inland environment." 

The Doctor shrugged at Chakotay's observation. "When I programmed the colonization scenario I instructed the computer to create a small natural disaster to test the crew's skills. I did not include any topographical parameters, so this is what we got." 

"That's the kind of detail Tom wouldn't have forgotten," B'Elanna said, probably just to annoy the Doctor. 

It worked. The Doctor scowled at her. "The only relevant factor for this program was to give the crew an opportunity to overcome a typical obstacle that might face a fledgling colony. Colonizing is not always a picnic, you know." 

B'Elanna rolled her eyes. "So I see. I've got to get to work on the power grid, Chakotay." 

"How bad is it?" 

"With Gilmore and Vorik's help, I can probably have it fixed by the end of my rotation." 

"If it's not, Joe Carey's on the third rotation. I'm sure his team can finish up." 

That was Chakotay's way of telling B'Elanna not to push herself too hard. Even though she was more amenable than usual--a characteristic of midterm Klingon pregnancies apparently--nothing ever affected her determination when it came to her job. She nodded reluctantly at his "suggestion" and strode off. 

Chakotay heard a chorus of groans behind him, and turned to see several new arrivals surveying the damage. Michael Ayala was shaking his head. "Molina said there was a hurricane. Guess he wasn't kidding." 

"I'm afraid not," Chakotay replied. "It's not quite as bad as it looks. Only one building was damaged, but it was the one containing our food supplies, unfortunately." 

Neelix waved a PADD. "Chell gave me an update before he left. We lost approximately two-thirds of our food stores. That leaves us about a week's supply right now. There shouldn't be any problem supplementing with the local fruits and tubers," he assured everyone. "I found some edible roots yesterday that will also make a nutritious soup. We won't starve." 

"We might wish we had," Ensign Ashmore muttered. 

"What about hunting?" Several pairs of eyes fixated on Sam Wildman. "We'll need more protein in our diet soon." 

"There must be other ways to get protein besides killing animals!" Megan Delaney protested. 

"Grubs are an excellent source of protein," Neelix announced cheerfully, to no resulting show of enthusiasm. 

"There are also plant sources," the Doctor said. "However, animal protein is the most beneficial for humanoids, except Vulcans." 

"Without a replicator we can't reproduce meat, so hunting will probably become necessary." Chakotay could see from several faces that the prospect wasn't to everyone's liking. He imagined few on Voyager had ever eaten non-replicated animal flesh. Some, like him, were also vegetarians, and would forgo eating actual animal flesh in favor of those other sources of protein. 

"Domestication of local animals would also be an eventual alternative," the Doctor said. 

"True," Chakotay replied. "However, we won't be pursuing either in the next two days." There were several relieved sighs. "The rations we have left and whatever we can forage will be enough to sustain us. You'd better put together a foraging party, Neelix." 

"Those who aren't assisting Mister Neelix can head over to the storage building," the Doctor announced. "Mister Tessoni has a team already working on the roof repairs." 

Angelo Tessoni had turned out to be an excellent carpenter, and, as often happened in such situations, others naturally looked to him for guidance since he possessed the greatest skill. Over the past several days many of the crew had found their comfortable niches, though not a few were intent on trying their hands at as many different tasks as possible. 

The group split up, some going with Neelix, while the rest followed the Doctor toward the storage building. Chakotay went with the second group, glad to note that everyone seemed to have adjusted to this setback with relative ease. No one really needed much direction anymore to find something useful to do, especially since there were no end of tasks to be done--not so different from the situation they often found themselves in on Voyager. Of course, this was a simulation, and an incomplete one at that, considering they all returned to the comfort of their own quarters at the end of the day. He knew better than anyone that no number of simulations could completely prepare one for reality, but he also knew that this crew had always responded with aplomb to every situation that had been thrown at them. Whatever they might face in the future, that wasn't likely to change. 

Their captain might be another matter. Kathryn's promise to get the crew home was the beacon that kept her going. Should that beacon be lost, he wasn't sure how she'd handle it. If the glint of humor he'd seen in her eyes before she'd left hadn't been his imagination, maybe she was starting to take this program for what is was though, rather than as a refutation of her objective. 

"Hey, Commander, are you just supervising today?" 

"Nope," Chakotay answered Ayala's sardonic question. He took the hammer Ayala offered, and then returned the lieutenant's grin as they joined the rest of the construction crew, who were already hard at work. 

^*^*^*^ 

Tom hefted his full sack over his shoulder and grunted as the weight hit his back. It had to weigh twenty-five kilos. 

"I believe this will be satisfactory for the moment," Tuvok said as he slung an equally heavy bag over his shoulder with no apparent effort at all. 

"It will have to be, since I can't carry any more back to the settlement. We should have brought the Sacajawea." 

"We are only two point two four kilometers from the settlement," Tuvok pointed out. 

Tom groaned, and started walking. "Only. Why did we have to draw the most distant foraging area?" 

"There was no random element involved. I am a Vulcan and you are a tall, able-bodied human with a higher than average strength index. Thus we were the logical choice." 

"Right." Tom pushed a hanging tree branch out of his face with his free hand. The surrounding foliage was dense, since they were right by the river. He could hear the rush of water to his right, though they had foraged in an area where the river was in a small canyon below them rather than right next to them. 

Tuvok spoke from behind him. "I suggest caution, Lieutenant. The ground in this area is uneven." 

"I just hope we're on the path." 

"We have drifted from the original path, though it is of little consequence since they are only poorly marked animal trails. When the river turns, the path will become clearer." 

To Tuvok maybe. Tom doubted he would even be able to tell. He'd know where he was going once the trees thinned and the settlement was visible across the grassy flatland. He'd never had much sense of direction on land, the way he did in space. Still, he did appreciate the scenic value of these woods, not to mention the beautiful waterfall just upstream. He could think of a few advantages to finding a secluded glade here where he and B'Elanna could be alone. Thanks to this drill, this was one more week when they'd spent too little time with each other. He wondered if he could trade rotations with someone tomorrow so he and B'Elanna could be in the program together. Then they could sneak away for an hour and find the perfect spot in these woods-- 

"Lieutenant, you are straying too far to your right." 

Tom had been so engrossed in his thoughts he hadn't noticed that the ground had begun to slope sharply on his right. Just as he started to take a step back his foot slipped, and he followed. He slid over the sloping ground for several meters, just missing a tree, until the ground abruptly flattened and ended. He reached out futilely but his momentum carried him, and he hit open air for a heart- stopping moment. That moment passed into the next as he remembered with relief that he was in a holoprogram. Then he landed with a thud. 

Tom cursed and rubbed his hip. Safeties or not, the sharp rock he'd landed on had hurt. And it had ripped his pants. He looked at the river, approximately forty meters below him. Then he looked up some five meters, where the uneven slope he'd tumbled down ended in the sharp precipice above him. It was not a great cliff as cliffs go, but big enough. He stood gingerly on the jutting bit of ground where he'd landed. It was no more than a small ledge in the cliff side. 

"Mister Paris." 

Tom looked up again, and saw Tuvok staring down at him impassively. "I'm fine, Tuvok." 

"Indeed. You are, however, in a precarious position." 

Tom could see that. The wall of the cliff was smooth, with nothing he could use as a handhold. The spot where Tuvok stood at the top of the cliff was two meters beyond his reach. "Did you happen to bring a rope?" 

Tuvok didn't bother to answer that rhetorical question. "Glibness will not rescue you from your predicament, Lieutenant. Your carelessness will one day be your undoing." 

Tom rolled his eyes. "It's a holoprogram, Tuvok." If he fell, he'd simply float to the rocks the lined the river directly below him. This wasn't even the kind of program where he'd be penalized or eliminated from the action if the safeties activated. 

"The drill is intended to simulate reality. If this were a real situation, your life would be in jeopardy. A fall onto the rocks from this height would likely be fatal. You have a history of taking your life lightly, but it might be provident to remember that you have a wife and a child now, and they are affected by your actions--" 

"All right, Tuvok! I wasn't looking where I was going. Geez, first Harry, and now you. Can you find a vine or something and pull me up without the lecture?" 

Tom's tone was snappish, but Tuvok merely raised an eyebrow, then disappeared from view. Tom sighed and shook his head. It wasn't like he'd fallen on purpose. And it wasn't like he took that many crazy chances with his life. Not anymore. Nowadays it seemed that had become B'Elanna's specialty-- 

Something slapped Tom lightly in the cheek. He looked at the vine that hung nearly to his feet, and up at Tuvok, who was on his haunches gripping the other end of it. He didn't know how Tuvok had managed to find one so fast, but he didn't question it either. He simply wrapped the vine around his hands and turned to face the wall of the cliff, bracing one leg against it. 

"Ready." 

Tuvok pulled, and Tom used his legs to help hoist himself up. With that effort, and Tuvok's Vulcan strength, he was over the edge and sitting next to Tuvok in only a few seconds. He winced at minor rope burns on his palms as he unwound the vine from his hands. Then he looked at Tuvok. "Thanks." 

Tuvok tossed the vine aside. "You are welcome. I suggest caution as we ascend the incline." 

Tom followed Tuvok, noting that the incline was short and not particularly steep. If he'd been paying attention he could have easily saved himself from a fall. His sack of berries was still at the top--on the path such as it was--right next to Tuvok's. Fortunately, he'd dropped it the moment he'd slipped, and only a few of the orange berries had spilled out. He picked up the sack and slung it over his shoulder, adjusting his grip a little to put less pressure on his reddened palms. "Why don't you lead, Tuvok." 

Tuvok nodded. "Very well." 

After a minute or so of silence as they walked, Tom spoke to Tuvok's back. "I'm sorry I was a little...hostile back there." He smiled inwardly at his own choice of words, thinking of his one-time accusation to B'Elanna. Hostility was probably more attractive coming from her than he suspected it was from him. 

"An apology is unnecessary, Lieutenant. Vulcans do not experience offense at human emotional outbursts." 

"Right," Tom muttered. "But even if this isn't real, I'm admitting that I should have been more careful." 

"Agreed." 

Tom sighed. Tuvok was such a conversationalist. "Speaking of real, Harry seems worried this colonizing thing might become a reality someday. It's silly. I mean, at this point what are the odds that we won't get all the way home?" 

"The odds are, to quote a popular human phrase, fifty-fifty." 

Tom stopped in his tracks and stared at Tuvok's back. "What?" 

Tuvok paused and turned. "There is no way to calculate precise probabilities since we are traveling through unknown territory and have no idea what future hazards we may face. Thus, the odds can be no more accurate than fifty-fifty." 

Tom had never thought of it like that. They began walking again, side by side, since the path had widened. "Well, I can't say it matters all that much to me either way." 

"So I have surmised. You have never expressed a great deal of enthusiasm about returning to the Alpha Quadrant." 

No, Tom didn't suppose he had. 

"I know that there are others among the crew who have found more stability on Voyager than they experienced in the Alpha Quadrant, or expect to find there if we return successfully." 

Tom knew that was true for some of the Maquis, and certainly for those who'd been on the Equinox. For quite a while it had been true for him. Now, although he had minor concerns about his reception by Starfleet and about B'Elanna's Maquis past, those concerns were secondary. "It's not that anymore. It's the cost of getting there. That cost has been running pretty high lately, and like you said, who knows what the future holds." 

Tuvok was silent, since they both knew the future could quite possibly hold more of the same. Tom shook his head as they moved through the trees. "Even a year ago, I would have scoffed at the idea of colonizing; but I'm married now, and my wife is pregnant. After the way the past few weeks have gone--well, it could have easily been B'Elanna who was hurt or killed trying to keep Engineering safeguarded from the Borg drones." He pushed away the image of Marla Gilmore as she'd been for two weeks in Sickbay, comatose and barely clinging to life. He'd transposed B'Elanna's face onto Marla's too often during those weeks. "The truth is, if we had to colonize, I don't think I would object much anymore. I worry about my wife and baby. If that's wrong, well, I can't help it." 

"Concern for your wife and child is commendable, Lieutenant," Tuvok said. "However, such concern does not give one the right to dictate the actions of others. To allow them independence despite that concern is a hallmark of maturity, as you have recently exhibited." 

Tom blinked. Was that actually a compliment? "Are you saying that I'm growing up, Tuvok?" he asked lightly. 

Tuvok studied him dispassionately. "So it would appear, Lieutenant Paris, belated as that development may be." 

Tom grinned. Now, that sounded more like Tuvok. "After all these years, it seems that you and I finally have a lot in common." 

Tuvok's eyebrow rose. "'A lot' would perhaps be overstating it." 

"We're both married, and we're both fathers. Well, I will be a father soon." Tom shook his head. "I never realized how that would change my priorities." He was still amazed how much those priorities had changed recently, for him and for B'Elanna. "I can't always goof off in my spare time now, though I still run my Captain Proton program once in a while, for Harry's sake." 

Tom noted Tuvok's skeptical glance with a wry smile, and shifted the sack on his back. "When I had a couple of free hours recently, I actually spent the time designing and replicating a mobile for the baby's cradle. It's a mobile of different starships, including Voyager, and a Klingon Bird of Prey. Considering her parents, I don't think she can help but be fascinated by starships flying above her head, huh? I suppose it's just a question of whether she'll grow up to be an engineer or a pilot. Though if she wants to do something else, that's fine too." He wasn't going to burden his daughter with rigid expectations. He knew too well what that felt like. "Whatever she chooses, I'll be right there to support her. She'll have to get used to having me around, but I plan to let her wrap me around her little finger so she probably won't protest--" 

"We are approaching the edge of the woods. Less talk and a quicker pace on your part will enable us to reach our destination sooner, Lieutenant." 

Tom was momentarily taken aback by Tuvok's brusque interjection, and then he had to rush to keep up as Tuvok increased his pace. The bag was definitely getting heavier as it bounced against his back. Okay, so he'd been talking a lot, but that wasn't a reason for Tuvok to try and kill him. He was about to demand that they slow down when something occurred to him. 

Besides his three sons, Tuvok also had a daughter. If Tom recalled correctly, she'd still been a child the last time Tuvok had seen her. Since then, Tuvok's only contact with his family had been through the datastream letters they'd been able to send back and forth this past year. Even though his own daughter wasn't here yet, Tom tried to imagine being separated from her for so long, and missing all those years watching her grow up. Not to mention being separated from B'Elanna for all that time... 

It wasn't something he wanted to imagine, or ever experience. Whatever hardships they all might still face on their journey, he had his wife and child with him, while Tuvok's wife and children were still twenty-seven thousand light years away. 

As they stepped beyond the last of the trees, Tom could see the four buildings that now marked the settlement no more than a kilometer away. Between them and the settlement, Jurot and Kashimuro Nozawa were staking out the field where the first crops from the seed stores they'd managed to save would be planted in a few days. Would have been planted. Since they only had one more day in the program, they wouldn't get that far. 

"Tuvok." 

Tuvok slowed down--finally--and looked at Tom inquiringly. Tom had to take a couple of breaths before he could speak. "Despite any ambivalence I might have personally expressed, I do hope we get back to the Alpha Quadrant." 

Tuvok met Tom's earnest gaze. "I too, hope we are successful in that endeavor, though personal preferences have little influence on the outcome." 

"Oh, I don't know, Tuvok," Tom said. "What about the captain? It's certainly her preference to get us there. Look how far her determination has gotten us, despite the odds, which now that you can look back, must have been truly horrendous." 

Tuvok's eyebrow rose at Tom's dramatization. "In retrospect, the odds were not in our favor by a substantial margin. If one employs typical human hyperbole, the odds against us reaching this point in our journey might well be considered horrendous." 

"Right! So if we're true to form, you'll probably being seeing your wife and kids again in no time." 

"Your reasoning is specious, Lieutenant," Tuvok said. "Though perhaps it will be so." 

Perhaps it would. If B'Elanna's transwarp project worked out, Tom knew it would shorten the trip considerably, and hopefully, lessen the dangers. But she was still struggling to make her theory workable, so he didn't say anything as they began to walk toward the settlement. If they did make it back, he figured he could handle whatever waited for him, and B'Elanna--as long as the cost of getting there didn't get any higher. 

^*^*^*^ 

Tuvok pressed the announcer, and at the captain's muffled "Enter," stepped into her ready room. Captain Janeway was seated on the couch, concentrating intently on a PADD. She didn't look up immediately. "Captain, I have the current status reports for you, if you wish to review them before your rotation in the colonization drill." 

"Thank you, Tuvok." Janeway gestured with one hand. "Just put them on the desk." 

"Commander Chakotay stopped by Engineering to consult with Lieutenant Torres on scheduling matters. He expects to return to the bridge within the half hour." 

"I'm sure you can handle it in the meantime." Janeway glanced at the status reports. "No problems?" 

"It remains...quiet." It was their first lengthy period of such respite in the six weeks they'd been in this sector, and Tuvok saw from Janeway's expression that she was no more eager than he was to let down her guard because of a few calm days. "Sensors remain at full alert for presence of the Borg." 

Janeway nodded, then studied her PADD again for several moments. Tuvok was about to turn and leave when she spoke. "Do you think this colonization program has been a worthwhile investment of time, Tuvok?" 

"I do, Captain." 

"The crew seems to be enjoying it, despite the unpredictable weather patterns and another sighting of Bigfoot yesterday, this time by Ensign Golwat." 

Tuvok saw the rueful twist of her lips and heard the subtle undercurrent of tension in her voice. He had not spent so many years with humans without being able to recognize their emotional nuances, and he knew no human better than Kathryn Janeway. "Enjoyment is incidental to the purpose of the drill, though distraction does appear to be a likely explanation for the crew's...lighthearted approach in the colonization program, in contrast to the generally more somber demeanor of the preceding weeks." 

Janeway nodded. "Yes, I'm sure that's part of it. Commander Chakotay theorized a holoprogram is just the thing to give the crew a sense of normalcy again." 

"Indeed," Tuvok agreed. On other Starfleet ships where he'd served, nearly three-quarters of the holodeck time was generally slotted to training simulations and standard calisthenics programs, and the remainder given over to personal use. It was the opposite on Voyager. Shore leave was an irregular and infrequent occurrence in the Delta Quadrant. The crew often spent weeks on end without outside contact or interaction, a difficult situation for social species like humans. The lure of something besides the close walls that had been surrounding them for seven years was irresistible to many. Whether it was a planetscape, a favored bar, an adventure program, or a holonovel, the holodeck provided variety, and that kind of escape was the norm on Voyager, even when it served a training purpose. 

"After all, there were a few times we could have colonized, but there was no desire." 

Tuvok's eyebrow rose at the captain's softly spoken statement. He surmised she was making a correlation between the positive reaction of the crew to the Doctor's colonization program and their attitudes in reality. Though he'd heard many positive opinions about the drill, no one had expressed a desire to make the program a reality. Even Lieutenant Paris's position expressed this morning could be considered neutral. "Affirmative. You offered them the opportunity to colonize once, and the crew as one gave you their answer. They have never shown an inclination to halt our journey." 

"Of course, some are no longer here to give an opinion," Janeway mused, her eyes still focused on the PADD in her hand. "It occurs to me that they might still be here if we had chosen to remain on the Briori homeworld with Amelia Earhart and her group, or had stopped somewhere else along the way, before we encountered the Borg and made them more dangerous enemies than they already were." 

Tuvok knew Janeway had a difficult time dealing with deaths among her crew, although she took care to conceal her distress in public. This latest round of deaths--after a period of two years, ten months and thirteen days during which they'd suffered no casualties--had been traumatic for the crew, and perhaps more so for the captain. Two weeks ago, she had borne the personal responsibility of informing the deceased crewmembers' friends and family--in one case including wife and child--of their fates, via the datastream transmission. Such a task took an emotional toll on a human, especially one who held herself partly responsible for those deaths. 

"Your assumption is thoroughly illogical, Captain." 

Janeway's head jerked up, and her gaze met his. "Thoroughly?" 

Though she spoke with soft irony and was smiling faintly, Tuvok observed the stiffness in her posture. "There is no way to know how the crew might have fared on a colony, whether on the Briori homeworld or at a later chosen location. A large natural disaster, or an attack from the Borg or another hostile race like the Kazon or Hirogen, might have killed even more." 

Janeway gave Tuvok a skeptical look. "Maybe." 

"We do know that had we remained on the Briori homeworld, or colonized later to avoid the confrontation between the Borg and Species 8472, Seven would still be a Borg drone, and the children we rescued from the Collective, including Icheb, would certainly be dead now. Civilizations we've contacted and affected in various ways wouldn't have known our presence, perhaps altering their future courses in an unknowable manner. Without our intervention, it is also possible that Species 8472 would have gained the foothold they were seeking in this galaxy and, as was their original intent, would be engaged in systematically destroying numerous planets and civilizations in their path, eventually reaching the Federation." 

"So it's all just a tradeoff?" Janeway asked wryly. 

"It is simply what is, Captain. You could as well wish Voyager had never gone after the Freedom, resulting in both ships being pulled into the Caretaker's anomaly. Such speculation changes nothing. You still do not know if a different decision at any point would have boded more well or ill for all involved in the end. Undoing the negative consequences also means undoing the positive. Predicting those consequences accurately is far beyond even a Vulcan's abilities." 

"What you say is completely logical, Tuvok." Janeway gave him a rueful smile. "But knowing that doesn't erase regrets." 

"Regrets are a useless expenditure of time, Captain." Tuvok refrained from noting that even Vulcans experienced that particular state of mind on occasion. "The only reasonable course available is to continue moving forward, basing your decisions on the conditions of the present moment." 

Janeway nodded. "I'm sure you're right, Tuvok. I'll even try and remember it." She stood, and placed her PADD on her desk. "Meanwhile, you have the conn. I'll be in Holodeck 1, where hopefully, the weather has improved." 

"That was the case during the first rotation. Commander Chakotay reported that the infirmary is now being raised, and the food supply is stabilizing." 

"I see." Janeway strode toward the door. Well, as long as there are no more hurricanes, floods or earthquakes, then I'll try to...enjoy myself." 

Tuvok considered that a reasonable plan. "Captain." 

Janeway turned and looked at him questioningly. 

"My door is open, as always." 

Janeway nodded, and a ghost of a smile touched her face for a moment. "I know, Tuvok. Thank you." 

Tuvok followed Janeway to the bridge and took the command chair as she entered the turbolift. He had no idea if she would accept his most recent appeal. Her inclinations in that matter were not very predictable. He had offered assisted meditation early in their journey; and over the years the captain had occasionally accepted that offer, sometimes at his reiteration, though other times she had simply shown up unannounced, seeking the solace and peace that meditation briefly gave her. 

Since the captain was not a Vulcan, meditation could not completely suffice to ease the emotional stresses inherent in her position or in the unique responsibilities she shouldered while they remained isolated in the Delta Quadrant. Though there were various measures that could reduce such emotional stress, for humans, the presence of an intimate confidant who could share the emotional burden was the most beneficial solace. But Janeway chose to carry her burden alone, for reasons that were logical if, to his mind, not entirely necessary. 

Captain Janeway was amazingly stubborn, even for a human. Tuvok knew she would deal with her recent losses and doubts in her own way and in her own time. In the meantime, he would continue to offer what he could to his oldest and closest human friend, and hope it helped to ease her burdens in some small way.


	5. Act 4

**Act 4**   
  
Harry entered Voyager's mess hall for breakfast and immediately spotted Tom sitting at a corner table. B'Elanna wasn't with him, and Harry remembered that she was in the colonization program for the first rotation today. He hadn't seen Tom outside of the bridge over the past couple of days. Although they'd traded a few casual greetings there, Harry knew that last conversation in the program was still between them.   
  
Neelix was busy, so Harry poured himself a cup of coffee, and walked toward Tom's table. Tom looked up as he approached and smiled. "Hey, Harry. Have a seat."   
  
Harry accepted the invitation, and looked at the half-eaten pancakes on Tom's plate as he sat down. "That actually looks pretty good."   
  
"It is. Neelix outdid himself today, apparently in honor of the final day of the colonization drill. I'm sure you're glad that's almost over."   
  
There was no rancor or derision in Tom's voice. Harry shrugged. "I guess it hasn't been too horrible, as holoprograms go."   
  
Tom looked surprised. "Really?"   
  
Harry grinned. "Well, it certainly isn't Captain Proton."   
  
Tom grinned back. "Hardly."   
  
"But it's been...educational. I learned a few new skills." Skills Harry sincerely hoped he'd never have to use, but he didn't have to tell Tom that. He took a sip of his coffee, and set it down. "Tom, I'm sorry. I know I was out of line the other day--"   
  
"Forget it. I understand."   
  
"I know it's just a holoprogram. It's not like we're really colonizing, or--"   
  
"Giving up?"   
  
Harry smiled sheepishly. "I didn't mean that exactly either. I know you've always been ambivalent about returning to the Alpha Quadrant, and seeing your father and all."   
  
"It wasn't just him. I left the Alpha Quadrant _persona non grata_. I could name dozens of people who wouldn't have shed a tear if I'd died."   
  
"No one thinks that anymore!"   
  
Tom smiled. "Probably not. If we get there--and I'm sure we will--that's fine with me. There are some fences I'd like to finish mending. If for some reason we have to stop short somewhere though, I can't lie and say I'll be completely devastated. That doesn't mean I want to stop right now and find a planet to colonize--"   
  
"I know. It just means that you've already got everything you want, whichever happens."   
  
Tom stared at Harry thoughtfully for a moment. "You're right. It took a while for me to figure it out, but I _have_ got everything I want." He smiled ruefully. "I even appreciate it for a change."   
  
Harry smiled back. He couldn't help but be happy for his friend, even if he felt a small twinge of envy.   
  
_"Seven of Nine to Lieutenant Paris. Report to Astrometrics immediately."  
_  
Harry's eyes widened as the comm line closed with a click. "Wow, she didn't even wait for a reply. What did you do?"   
  
Tom grimaced and pushed his chair back. "I'm a day late delivering my navigation reports. I'll just blame it on the colonization drill."   
  
Harry smirked. "Like Seven will buy that."   
  
"Well, it is partly true. I'll also throw in some roguish charm and sincere remorse."   
  
"I'm sure that will work too," Harry said sardonically, though knowing Tom, it just might.   
  
Tom shrugged. "Hey, it's worth a shot. By the way, enjoy your last day in the program. At the very least, I can promise you it won't be raining."   
  
Harry's eyes narrowed at mischievous gleam in Tom's eyes. "You altered the Doctor's program, didn't you?"   
  
"Who, me?" Tom asked innocently. "Nope. I just kept watch."   
  
It took only a moment for Harry to recall how much B'Elanna disliked rain. "I sure hope the Doctor never finds out."   
  
"Harry, Harry...this is B'Elanna we're talking about."   
  
"Right." If anyone could conceal sabotage completely it would be B'Elanna. Harry grinned. "Guess I'll enjoy the sunshine then."   
  
Tom grinned back. "You do that. I'll see you later...Lieutenant."   
  
Harry watched Tom stride out of the mess hall. He had to admit he really liked being addressed by his new rank--and Tom did it often, partly in his typical Paris teasing manner, with that drawled delivery, and partly because he knew Harry liked hearing it, even if being a lieutenant hadn't turned out to be everything he'd thought it would be. It was _almost_ everything, but he'd realized soon enough that achieving lieutenant rank hadn't improved every aspect of his life. It didn't keep him from missing his family back home, or from sometimes being lonely among a hundred and fifty other people he now considered his second family.   
  
He definitely envied his best friend. In his early days on Voyager, Tom had insisted that there was no one he wanted to ever see again back home. He'd changed on that score, but Harry knew that wasn't the issue for Tom anymore. It was just as Harry had recognized, and as B'Elanna had said. Here or in the Alpha Quadrant, Tom already had exactly what he wanted. And so did B'Elanna. To Tom, "home" was B'Elanna and the baby, and vice versa.   
  
It was so easy for them.   
  
Harry frowned, chasing away that ungracious and slightly bitter thought. He knew, better than anyone, that it hadn't been easy for them. Tom and B'Elanna had worked hard to get where they were. They'd stuck it out through the toughest times, when most people would have just quit. But Tom and B'Elanna certainly weren't most people. They deserved their happiness. If he had what they'd found with each other, he might not care where he ended up either, as long as that one other person was there with him.   
  
Unfortunately, that hadn't happened for him, not yet. Perhaps it never would on Voyager. Despite his attraction to Seven, which had evolved into a simple if solid friendship, his brief fling with Tal, and even his strong feelings for Lindsay Ballard--which he'd later admitted to himself had perhaps been a little idealized--when he woke in the middle of the night it was still Libby he sometimes missed--their easy conversation, their shared history and experiences, their laughter over the same jokes no one else understood. There'd never been anything official between them, but there would have been, in the neat, clearly defined life he'd planned out before he'd ended up in the Delta Quadrant. Now she'd gone on with her life, as he had with his.   
  
Harry sighed. Maybe he and Libby hadn't had the kind of fireworks that Tom and B'Elanna had, but he was the type who could be very happy in a relationship based on easy conversation and comfortable companionship, with someone like Libby. Or like Marla...   
  
Lately, that was just where his mind had been wandering. To Marla Gilmore. When it did, he cut off that speculation ruthlessly. Or at least he tried. He couldn't deny his attraction to her, but he was tired of appearing desperate for love--and he knew that's how the crew saw him. He was wise to be wary of his feelings, considering his abysmal track record. And why should anything change now--    
  
"Lieutenant Kim, you're looking particularly solemn. Can I cheer you up with some banana pancakes? Well, its posha fruit actually, but according to Lieutenant Torres, the flavor is quite similar to bananas."   
  
Harry looked at Neelix's smiling face and couldn't help but smile in return. Maybe breakfast would take his mind of his numerous failures at romance. "Sure, Neelix. Why not?"   
  
Neelix set the plate of steaming pancakes on the table. "What rotation are you on today?"   
  
"Second."   
  
"Ah, me too. It has been an experience, hasn't it? The settlement is shaping up to be quite livable. A bit crowded certainly, but with plenty of room for growth. Of course, you can't have more room for growth than an entire uninhabited planet, can you?"   
  
Harry supposed not, though he was saved from replying as Neelix rambled on.   
  
"I've been working on some great decorating ideas for my restaurant, and a marketing campaign--"   
  
"Neelix, you'd have the corner on the market," Harry pointed out dryly. "Besides, you're planning for something that will be gone tomorrow."   
  
"Oh, I know," Neelix replied. "Planning for contingencies is something we Talaxians do by habit. We learned long ago to be ready to adapt to whatever circumstances may face us."   
  
"I guess you'd adapt pretty easily to colony life, huh, Neelix?"   
  
"I can adapt to anything if I have to," Neelix said, without any false modesty. "But I must admit, I've gotten used to having the stars outside my window. I'd miss that, and I'd miss Voyager. Besides, from all the stories the crew has told me, I'm very eager to see Earth and the Alpha Quadrant."   
  
Harry didn't know if Neelix was really as eager as he claimed, but he appreciated the Talaxian's unerring ability to boost his spirit. "Keep those plans for your restaurant, Neelix, because you might get to open it in the Federation one day. You'll have the corner on the market there too, since I can assure you, no other restaurant will be serving Delta Quadrant cuisine."   
  
Neelix nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly my plan, Lieutenant. Though right now I have to get back to flipping pancakes, since I see a new group of arrivals. See you in the program later."   
  
Harry watched Neelix hurry back to the kitchen. He thought of the Pojzan as he dug into his pancakes and wondered how they were faring in their safe haven. He hoped they were doing well. Certainly colonizing a planet, especially one with beautiful vistas and plenty of resources, could be a great thing for some, if they no home and no place else to go, like the Pojzan. But Voyager had some place else to go, and the crew had a home waiting for them. And he was exactly who and where he wanted to be in the interim, a lieutenant on a ship in Starfleet.   
  
Even if colony life wasn't something that interested him, Harry decided he might as well enjoy the program today. Maybe he could join one of the food foraging teams. He hadn't done that yet, and he'd heard it was quite scenic by the river. He might as well get a look at it before the program was over for good. And while it wasn't raining.   
  
^*^*^*^   
  
It was the end of the third rotation, and the sun was about to set over the settlement. Tom had just left with Mario Gennaro and Gerry Culhane after finishing a test pilot run on the "revamped" Sacajawea. Amanda Lang and Will Peterson were completing their inventory of the tools in the storage building, and then they'd be gone. A handful of others were moving around, finishing whatever tasks they'd been assigned before the program ended and the settlement they'd built over the past six days faded away, existing only as a file among thousands in the computer's holodeck subdirectory.   
  
Chakotay had just finished conferring with U'Lanai and Brian Sofin about the windows they'd installed in the infirmary. That building had been finished today, the last one to be built during their six day plan. He was about to follow them out of the program when he spotted another person who hadn't left yet. She was sitting on the steps in front of the mess hall, her attention focused on the western hills in the distance.   
  
Chakotay watched Kathryn Janeway for several seconds, then changed course and walked in her direction. They hadn't talked much beyond official duty concerns over the past couple of days. They'd had different rotations in the program, and different bridge shifts to compensate, so there hadn't even been the opportunity for one of their frequent working dinners. He wasn't sure if his perception that she had become more receptive to the program recently was accurate, although her presence here when she could have already left was probably a good sign.   
  
She looked up as he approached. She was haloed by the sunset, and her auburn hair glowed with the reflected red light of the sun. Her lips curved into small smile, and she made a motion with her hand, inviting him to sit.   
  
So far, so good. He sat down next to her, their knees nearly touching and asked, "So, what's a starship captain like you doing out here contemplating the sunset?"   
  
Before she could answer another voice spoke.   
  
"Evening Captain, Commander."   
  
They both looked up as Joe Carey stopped in front of them. "I'm on my way out, but I just wanted to say I think this drill went very well. Even if it was only a holoprogram, we accomplished quite a lot, didn't we?"   
  
The captain smiled faintly. "Yes, we did."   
  
"I also really enjoyed it, though I guess that wasn't exactly the point."   
  
"There were no rules against it, Mister Carey," Chakotay said dryly.   
  
Joe grinned. "Guess not. After my last letter home..." He paused, his expression sobering. "Well, even the things I didn't say probably got back to my wife and kids from the official logs. This will be something to tell them in my next letter to let them know we're all doing okay now. I'm glad the Doctor came up with this idea."   
  
"So am I," the captain told him.   
  
Joe nodded. "Goodnight."   
  
"Goodnight, Lieutenant."   
  
Chakotay watched Joe stride away, then nudged Kathryn lightly with his shoulder. "Did you mean that?"   
  
She looked at him evenly. "Mister Carey is right. This is quite an accomplishment in six days."   
  
Chakotay looked at the settlement around them. Right now it was just five buildings and one lone shuttlecraft on a small grassy plain. Light shone from some of the windows in the approaching dusk, and one could easily imagine the buildings were occupied by unseen colonists. It was Spartan, yet somehow cozy, with its implied sense of community. It was a fledgling effort so far, not a home yet; but it could easily grow into one.   
  
He looked at Kathryn again. "I'm sure you expected nothing less from your crew. But that's not exactly what I meant."   
  
Kathryn gave him a measuring look in return. "I've also come to realize they did need the distraction after weeks of being on constant alert. We all did."   
  
There was nothing worse than feeling powerless, other than knowing your enemy was determined to strike at you, but not knowing when or how it would happen. Despite his optimistic comment after the briefing six days ago, Chakotay didn't doubt that they would meet up with more Borg trouble before they managed to escape this sector. At least this program had relieved some of the low-level anxiety the crew had been living with for weeks...and that the captain had been living with, too. "What about your personal feelings on the issue?"   
  
Kathryn frowned. "You mean my personal feelings about colonizing?"   
  
"That did seem to influence your early opinion of the program."   
  
"I guess it did." She looked into the distance, where the bottom half of this planet's sun had sunk behind the hills. The sky was streaked orange and red. "I can recognize that there are certain...attractions to this simulated colony life. Sunsets for instance."   
  
"That's one attraction," Chakotay agreed. There were others. Even during his first stint in Starfleet, he'd known he wasn't the kind of 'Fleeter who loved ship life so much he didn't care if he ever set foot on land again. He'd assumed that once he tired of the adventure he'd want to put down roots, feel real soil under his feet, and have a sky stretching over his head instead of stars out of a viewport.   
  
"What about _your_ personal feelings on the subject?" Kathryn asked, startling him out of his thoughts. Her gaze on him was intent. "We both know there have been times when you would have been willing to colonize."   
  
Though she'd shifted the subject away from her own feelings, he answered her question. "That's true, but only when I thought it would be the safest alternative." A shadow crossed Kathryn's face, a reflection of their recent losses, he suspected, rather than the time they'd so vocally argued the issue when both the Borg and Species 8472 had been lurking like wolves at their door. He knew those recent deaths were still weighing on her. He gave her a crooked smile. "But you've always proven me wrong. I guess that's why you're the captain and I'm only the first officer."   
  
Kathryn managed a weak smile in return. "Maybe."   
  
"Though I admit, on occasion I have thought about what all our lives would be like if we'd colonized. That's only natural."   
  
"Of course," Kathryn murmured, though Chakotay doubted she'd ever entertained such thoughts. "So, hypothetically speaking, what would our lives be like?"   
  
"Well...since we wouldn't be Starfleet officers anymore, but colonists, the barriers of rank would be gone. That would have likely redefined some relationships." Chakotay didn't flinch at Kathryn's sharp gaze. He meant exactly what she was thinking. "There would be plenty of challenges, as we've seen in this program--sustainable food production, weather protection, extracting energy resources--but we'd handle them as a community."   
  
"We already _are_ a community, Chakotay," Kathryn said pointedly.   
  
He nodded. "Yes, we are. But if we had colonized, our priorities would be different. We'd be focused on building a permanent home, on settling into that new home, and then on...pairing off and procreating."   
  
That last comment elicited a small, wry laugh from Kathryn. "That concept's not exactly unheard of on Voyager."   
  
"Not for some," Chakotay agreed.   
  
Kathryn gave him another piercing look, though he saw the amusement lurking in her eyes. "You're taking a lot for granted, Commander."   
  
"Am I?" Chakotay asked blandly. Her eyebrows rose but she didn't answer. "Anyway, colony life would be very much focused on taking care of the day to day needs and problems, though there would be plenty of rewards, like watching a beautiful sunset."   
  
Kathryn looked at him reproachfully. "You make it sound like you think our lives would have been better if we'd colonized."   
  
It would have been the difference between a journey with no certain end and having reached a destination, even if that destination wasn't the original intent. The difference between postponing various aspects of their lives, and embracing them--yet at the same time, having given up a goal that was paramount to most of them.   
  
"Not better or worse," Chakotay said softly. "Just different."   
  
"Perhaps when we were sixty or seventy years from home, with no way to contact our families, that would have been true," Kathryn said. "Now we're twenty years away, maybe far less, if B'Elanna's project pans out, and we're in regular contact with Starfleet. Since we've been able to send letters back and forth, the crew is even more eager to get home and see their families again."   
  
Which made her even more determined to get them there, no matter what. Her expression was almost mutinous. "Kathryn..." Chakotay put his hand over hers. "I was speaking hypothetically, remember? I may not be as dead set as you are against colonizing if it becomes our best option, but it's never been my first choice. I'm certainly not advocating it now. I'd like to get this crew safely back to the Alpha Quadrant as much as you would."   
  
"Good," Kathryn said softly. She looked at the sunset again. The sun had slipped completely behind the hills, and the sky was streaked deep pink and purple. "Because as beautiful as a place like this is, and as pleasant as I'm sure this life could be, to me it's still a worst case scenario, Chakotay--something to fall back on only if it's our last option."   
  
"I agree," Chakotay said, though he figured there was a substantial difference in definition between his 'best" option and Kathryn's "last" option. "Besides, maybe it's enough that we've already founded one colony in the Delta Quadrant."   
  
When Kathryn gave him a puzzled look, he said, "The Demon class planet?"   
  
"Oh." She was silent for several moments, her gaze reflective. "I think about that place sometimes, and wonder what's happened to our counterparts. From the example of that Tom and Harry, it seemed like they might spend all their time staring spellbound at the 'beauty' around them."   
  
Chakotay recalled that Tom and Harry's vacant-gazed euphoria in their surrounding environment, an environment the real crew had found harsh and unforgiving--a hellhole in fact. "Even though they're partly formed from that planet, I can't help but think their humanity would have eventually reasserted itself. By now I'm guessing they've built a colony much like this one, and are happily raising dozens of children."   
  
Kathryn let out a soft, husky laugh. "That would make them very fast workers, but you could be right." She gave him an arch look. "Do you think that Chakotay is any good at building bathtubs?"   
  
Chakotay grinned. "No doubt that was the first human trait that reasserted itself in my counterpart. A deep desire to build a bathtub for your counterpart."   
  
Kathryn smiled. "No doubt." Then she sighed. "I hope they are faring well, though I guess we'll never know for sure."   
  
"Probably not. Maybe it's better that some things remain a mystery. But that's how I like to think of them."   
  
Kathryn nodded. "So do I." She glanced again toward the fading sunset. "Maybe right now they're seeing something as beautiful to them as--Chakotay."   
  
The abrupt change in her tone as she said his name and the sudden tension in her body alerted him, and he followed her gaze. A figure stood some thirty meters away, at the nearest edge of the settlement's current boundary. Though Chakotay thought several of the crew might still be in the program--he hadn't seen the Doctor leave yet, for one--this figure was far too tall and bulky to be any of them. In fact it was covered from head to toe in a long dense coat of fur.   
  
"The infamous Bigfoot?" Kathryn asked in a whisper.   
  
"I assume so," Chakotay said in the same hushed tone, even though it was unlikely the creature--it seemed too humanoid to think of it as an animal--could hear them unless they shouted. The creature took two steps forward in a very human-like gait, then paused again. In the deepening dusk, Chakotay could just make out its large, amber eyes. Those eyes seemed to be staring right at him.   
  
"He's looking at us," Kathryn said, echoing Chakotay's thought.   
  
There was a small flash on the ground several meters away from the creature, just beyond the dark bulk of the Sacajawea. Chakotay knew it was the ground-based force field. No doubt a small animal had wandered into it and received a mild shock. The creature glanced that way, but a moment later its attention returned to them. It made no attempt to approach closer, as if it knew another step would take it into the force field. It just kept watching them.   
  
"I'm getting a weird feeling, Chakotay. Does his gaze look...intelligent?"   
  
"Could be a her," Chakotay said. Those yellow eyes didn't waver, and he felt a small shiver go down his spine. The Doctor had used very general parameters for this program, but Chakotay knew one of those parameters had specified no sentient life. Yet he almost felt he should speak to the creature; and if he did, that it would respond. Maybe the Doctor hadn't been clear about that parameter, as he hadn't about the weather patterns; and the computer had responded with its own interpretation.   
  
Just as Chakotay wondered if he was ascribing too much creative autonomy to the computer, the creature stirred abruptly, startling him, though Kathryn barely reacted. Her hand was still in his, and her gaze on the creature was rapt as it turned and strode away, its gait now heavy and somewhat awkward as it moved quickly. In a few moments it was gone, as if it had never been there.   
  
"That was odd," Kathryn finally murmured.   
  
"It's too bad the program is over in a few minutes. I feel like we should try to make first contact. Do you think the computer's holodeck subroutine would have the wherewithal to create a new intelligence on its own?"   
  
Kathryn shrugged. "I don't know. I guess it will remain a mystery in this case. As you said, some things are better left that way."   
  
So he had. He released her hand. "Ready?"   
  
Kathryn nodded quickly and stood. "Yes. I have a departmental review to finish. Tuvok is probably already there waiting for me."   
  
"I'd suggest a working dinner, but with all the schedule shuffling to accommodate the Doctor's drill, I ended up with a half shift on the bridge tonight."   
  
"Weren't you the one making the schedule?"   
  
Chakotay shrugged. "I didn't want to dump all the night shifts on Lieutenant Kim, eager as he is for command."   
  
Kathryn laughed. "Nice of you to sacrifice yourself." Then her gaze sharpened on him. "By the way, I haven't forgotten about that martyr comment."   
  
"I didn't think you had. I meant it in a nice way."   
  
Kathryn gave him a dubious look. "Uh huh. I'm not going to apologize for doing whatever is necessary to take care of my ship and crew and keep them safe, Commander. I'm the captain, and that goes with the territory."   
  
Chakotay had a feeling she'd rehearsed that defense. He knew her willingness to put her crew before herself was one reason the crew followed her unquestioningly. "I understand, Captain. However, as first officer, it's my job to take care of you and keep you safe. That goes with the territory."   
  
Kathryn stared at him narrowly for a moment, then accepted that with a nod and a small smile. "Computer, arch." She glanced back for a brief moment, then stepped through as the arch opened. "I'd better go. You know how impatient Tuvok gets when he's kept waiting." They shared a brief smile. "One night soon we'll get to that working dinner."   
  
"I'll hold you to it," Chakotay said, though she was already striding down the corridor. He took a step into the arch and stopped, neither completely in the colonization program nor in the corridor of Voyager. He looked back, though there was little to see now but the few lights of the settlement. The darkness was almost complete, and the stars were out--the same stars that were visible right now through any viewscreen on Voyager.   
  
He'd meant what he'd told Kathryn. He wanted to get the crew back to the Alpha Quadrant. He looked forward to seeing his own family there, especially his sister. But they had formed a family of sorts here too. For a few, this cobbled-together version on Voyager was their only family. Once they reunited with the families waiting in the Alpha Quadrant, it seemed inevitable that this family would break up. At the very least, it could no longer exist on the same terms. He doubted many had thought yet of that tradeoff, or would until the time presented itself. But that was life--always a balance between gain and loss, with the hope that the gain would outweigh the loss. For many, that would be so when they got back to Earth. But not for all.   
  
Chakotay took one last look at the settlement and thought of roads taken and roads not taken. He thought of the one road he was still waiting to take, if she would just take the first step on that road with him. Then he stepped into the corridor and let the holodeck door close behind him.   
  
^*^*^*^   
  
The Doctor had watched the captain and Commander Chakotay leave the program a few minutes earlier. Now he stood alone in front of the infirmary, surveying the settlement. It was almost dark now, but light shone warmly from the two dormitories and the mess hall, even though the buildings were silent and empty. If this program were real, the crew of Voyager might be in that mess hall--or restaurant, as Mister Neelix preferred to call it--eating together before they retired to the dormitories to sleep. The food would be a mix of salvaged rations and local plants and fruits mixed in a no doubt questionable manner by Neelix, but it would sustain them. Life here would be elemental to start, but they would survive, and eventually, they would thrive.   
  
The Doctor sighed, surprised to realize that he would miss the program. He was very proud of it--it was, after all, a clever concept for an emergency procedures drill and evidence of the higher evolution of his creative thinking subroutines. He thought even the captain, who'd clearly been resistant to the idea in the beginning, had come to appreciate the value of his drill. The crew had proved to be even more adept than he'd expected, though he knew, despite his sometimes sarcastic observations, that every crewmember on Voyager was fully capable of handling any situation that faced them.   
  
The crew had embraced his colonization concept, though they'd embraced it as a holoprogram--something different from their normal routine--not as a possible reality. Still, it had made him wonder what life would be like for them--and for him--if this were real, or if it became real someday. Some of the crew still had reservations about their reception in the Alpha Quadrant. The Doctor knew his own future was uncertain. The EMH Mark Ones were obsolete, and though he'd clearly exceeded the limitations of his programming to an astonishing degree, that didn't guarantee his place in the Federation. His dreams of research grants from Starfleet Medical might come to naught. He did have his holonovel in progress, and if that became the success he expected it would be, he could always turn it into a whole series of holoadventures. He wouldn't mind being a famous author, giving lectures and signing autographs for his adoring public--   
  
_//Program shutdown in three minutes.//_  
  
The Doctor frowned at the computer's interruption. He wasn't ready to go. "Computer, cancel automated shutdown."   
  
_//Automated shutdown canceled.//  
_  
The Doctor nodded in approval as a voice spoke behind him.   
  
"Doctor."   
  
The Doctor turned, surprised to see Seven. "Why are you still here?"   
  
Seven's eyebrow rose at his abrupt question. "I was completing my augmentation of the Sagan's aft circuit relay into the power grid. Does my presence disturb you?"   
  
The Doctor shook his head. "Of course not. I just thought everyone else had gone."   
  
"Why have you chosen to cancel the automated shutdown and remain here?"   
  
"I'm...not quite ready to leave yet."   
  
"I see," Seven replied, though her quizzical expression made it clear that she didn't. "Is there some other objective you wish to accomplish?"   
  
"No. Why? Don't you think I've accomplished the objective of my drill?"   
  
Seven didn't look particularly put out by the Doctor's peevish tone. "Your drill was quite successful, Doctor. You have prepared the crew adequately for this possible outcome. In the event of a real colonization, they would survive comfortably, and eventually thrive."   
  
Seven's words mirrored his own thought earlier, and the Doctor smiled. They did think alike. "Living on a colony would also have certain advantages that can't be found on a ship. Fresh air, sunshine, real gravity beneath your feet, and ample room for movement. It's really the most natural environment for humanoids, far more so than permanent residence on starships. Still, few humanoid species' do what's natural, or they never would have gone into space in the first place. I'm sure you could never imagine yourself living on a colony, could you, Seven?"   
  
He expected her to say that kind of simple life wasn't something that would interest her, given her superior technical knowledge and abilities. Instead she murmured, "Perhaps."   
  
The Doctor was dumbfounded. "Perhaps?"   
  
"As you pointed out, Doctor, existence on a colony can have its advantages."   
  
"But you'd never want to give up your work on Voyager. You've told me before that it is a challenge you could find in few other places."   
  
"Have I?" Seven asked, as if her eidetic memory would have allowed her to forget it. "The universe is filled with any variety of challenges, Doctor. One need only look and apply oneself."   
  
The Doctor frowned at her evasive answer. He wondered... "Have you talked to Axum lately?"   
  
Seven's expression softened subtly at the mention of Axum. "I spoke with him several days ago."   
  
"I see." The Doctor felt that disturbing ache in his chest again. "So, has he found a suitable colony site yet?"   
  
"No. He continues to search."   
  
"Well, I hope he finds one soon," the Doctor said sincerely. "I'm sure it will be comforting for you to know that he and his people have a place to call home, as we have on Voyager."   
  
"I hope for that also, Doctor."   
  
The Doctor felt a sense of relief. What had he been thinking? Seven was content here. The crew was her family now. She'd said so herself--they were her Collective. She loved her work in Astrometrics. She'd even started wearing a uniform. Certainly, she was fond of Axum, given their shared past, but Voyager was her home--   
  
"I wonder if I will ever feel such certainty about where I belong."   
  
The Doctor stared at her, nonplused. "Seven, after all this time, you cannot doubt your place on Voyager or among this crew!"   
  
Seven met his distraught gaze. "I do not doubt that I have achieved acceptance here, Doctor. I also recognize my good fortune. Unlike most of the drones severed from the Borg Collective, I had you and the rest of the crew to help me reclaim my individual identity. Those on the Trefla, and many others, have had no such support."   
  
"Seven, you shouldn't feel guilty about that. It's not your fault."   
  
"I know, Doctor. I benefited from random circumstance, not through any special merit of my own. I am disturbed by that dichotomy. I am like them, yet I am not."   
  
"You may have a similar history, but you're not like any of them. And they're no longer like each other. That's what it means to be an individual--you make your own choices. As Axum and Cretia made their individual and completely different choices."   
  
Seven looked thoughtful. "I do not know if it is that simple, Doctor. If it is, perhaps I also have some choices to make."   
  
The Doctor didn't like the sound of that. "As long as you remember that Voyager is your home, Seven."   
  
"Is it?" Seven asked. "One way or another, that will end someday, Doctor, for all of us. Right now I have several reports to finish in Astrometrics, but I will consider your words. Goodnight."   
  
"Seven..." Though she looked at him expectantly, the Doctor could think of nothing to say except a quickly stammered, "Goodnight."   
  
He watched her go, knowing with a certain resignation that she was right. Their life on Voyager was finite. Their journey would eventually end and their lives would change, whether they arrived at Earth or stopped somewhere else. One day--perhaps soon, perhaps many years from now--his life would change, and he would no longer be Voyager's EMH.   
  
And Seven...well, he'd already realized that their paths would never completely converge, not the way he'd once desperately hoped. Now he wondered if their paths would diverge even more than he could have guessed. He looked at the darkness around him, alleviated only by the few lighted windows and the stars above, and wondered pensively what the future held. He felt a twinge of regret that this was just a holoprogram. For a moment he was tempted to save it to his personal directory, so he could take it forward along its simple, certain progression--   
  
He shook his head. He hadn't even thought of a name for this colony. This was a training scenario, nothing more. Whatever the future did hold, however similar or different it might prove to be from the life he knew on Voyager or the simulated life they'd fashioned here for six days, that was where his attention should be focused right now. Still...   
  
"Computer, end program...and save to holodeck training subdirectory."   
  
The hills, the river, the grass and trees, the stars, and the five buildings that had risen through sweat and hard work over the past six days all winked out around him. The Doctor nodded, and then strode out of the holodeck, headed for Sickbay.   
  



	6. Epilogue

**Epilogue**  
  
Janeway stepped into Holodeck 1, and a momentary sensation of disorientation hit her. Instead of the fledgling settlement that had evolved here for six days, she was in a bar, though not an unfamiliar one. She saw immediately that it was the Doctor's version tonight, evidenced by the piano in the middle of the room instead of a pool table. Despite their tendency to needle each other constantly in Sickbay, Tom and the Doctor willingly shared the Sandrine's program with no friction at all. In fact she spotted Tom and B'Elanna seated at a table with Harry...and Chakotay.  
  
As if he'd sensed her regard, Chakotay looked up and smiled as she raised a hand in greeting. Then he returned his attention to whatever Harry was saying. They'd missed another chance at a working dinner tonight, but she'd expected he might be here.  
  
The place was crowded, she noted, with perhaps three dozen crewmembers gathered among the tables. Since the Doctor's drill had ended yesterday, the crew had returned to their regular shifts today with a lighter step, more relaxed than they'd been in weeks. She'd heard a dozen rave reviews of the colonization program, though no requests to make it a reality.  
  
Janeway walked toward the piano as the Doctor swept his fingers over the bars, finishing a piece with a crescendo. A smattering of applause followed before everyone returned to their conversations. Though his opera performances were received with a general lack of enthusiasm--a fact that seemed to fly over the Doctor's head--his rendering of ballads and love songs, many from the same twentieth-century Tom found so fascinating, generally drew approval and sometimes a crowd in Sandrine's.  
  
"Doctor, may I?"  
  
The Doctor looked up. "Of course. I didn't think you played, Captain."  
  
Janeway waved a hand as the Doctor started to rise. "Stay where you are." She sat on the bench next to him. "I don't play, though I've always admired those who could."  
  
"I could teach you," the Doctor offered. "Surprisingly, only Lieutenant Nicoletti, Crewman Lessing, and Lieutenant Paris know how to play, though Mister Paris's playing is rudimentary, from lessons as a child I believe."  
  
"I appreciate the offer, Doctor, but music really isn't a talent I possess. I actually wanted to congratulate you on the success of your drill."  
  
The Doctor looked surprised, though pleased. "Thank you, Captain. I appreciate you allowing me the opportunity."  
  
She certainly hadn't shown any early enthusiasm for the drill, but the Doctor's humble tone surprised her. "You're welcome, Doctor. It was your turn, after all."  
  
"I thought you might be hesitant to include me after...well..."  
  
The Doctor's voice trailed off, and Janeway suspected that he was recalling the events with the rogue holograms several months ago. She'd let him off easily--far too easily--and it was only later that she'd realized the implication of not holding him responsible in the same way she had held Tom responsible for his actions with the Moneans. She had fallen again into the trap of viewing the Doctor differently--as less of a person than her flesh and blood crewmembers. Some lessons you just kept relearning.  
  
"That wasn't my objection," she assured the Doctor. "You are a senior officer, and fully a member of this crew. Your drill was a success, and you should be proud. The crew learned some valuable skills and enjoyed themselves in the process. In fact, you probably upstaged Tom's evacuation drill in their memory."  
  
"Really?" The Doctor smiled, preening a bit at the thought, though a moment later his expression sobered as his attention focused on the door into Sandrine's.  
  
Janeway turned, not surprised to see Seven, accompanied by Naomi and Icheb. They walked to an empty table, PADDs in hand. She looked at the Doctor again and saw the wistfulness in his gaze. She knew Seven had talked to Axum several times recently. She also knew very well how old feelings could resurface again--if they ever left at all. "You have another success story there, Doctor."  
  
When the Doctor gave her a puzzled look, Janeway clarified, "Seven."  
  
The Doctor looked at Seven again, his feelings nakedly visible in his eyes. "She has become quite an amazing young woman, hasn't she?"  
  
"Yes, she has, partly because of your friendship to her. I'm sorry. I know you wanted more."  
  
The Doctor's brow furrowed. "What are you--did Lieutenant Paris talk to you?"  
  
"Tom?" Janeway shook her head. "No, he didn't say anything. I...guessed."  
  
"Have I been that obvious?" the Doctor asked, dismayed.  
  
"No, of course not," Janeway said hastily, though the Doctor was hardly a closed book. If she had noticed the signs, she was sure others besides Tom had too... "I don't think anyone else suspects."  
  
The Doctor looked relieved. Then he sighed. "I know that Seven and I aren't meant to be. In fact she doesn't really need me anymore."  
  
Janeway had noticed recently that Seven was drawing away from her dependence on the Doctor for social assistance. She was drawing away from all of them in that sense. "Seven has become her own person, Doctor. She's grown into her humanity, as we hoped she would. You should be proud, because you've helped make that happen for her. And she does still need you as a friend. That will never change."  
  
"I hope not," the Doctor said. He looked at Seven pensively again. "Still, I wonder..."  
  
"What?"  
  
"If I had told her that I had...feelings for her, if I had said something before--well, I wonder if it would have made a difference."  
  
Janeway understood his meaning. Before Seven had met Axum again and remembered her life with him in Unimatrix Zero. "I honestly don't know, Doctor," she said gently. "I'm not sure Seven would have been ready then, in any case."  
  
The Doctor smiled ruefully. "Probably not. But at least I would know that I hadn't squandered my opportunity because I was too afraid to admit my feelings."  
  
Janeway tried to think of something comforting to say, but before she could speak the Doctor turned and looked at her gravely. "Captain, I owe you an apology. I once gave you some advice, and I've come to realize that it was the wrong advice."  
  
Janeway wasn't sure what the Doctor was talking about, but she raised her eyebrows at his unusual admission. "You were wrong?"  
  
"It only happened that one time," the Doctor assured her.  
  
Janeway smiled. "Of course. You'll have to clue me in, Doctor. What advice?"  
  
"I told you once that you couldn't possibly have a relationship with one of your crew, and that you had little choice but to settle for what you could have instead--in that case a relationship with a recreational hologram."  
  
Janeway winced a little at that phrasing. "Doctor, you were citing Starfleet protocol when you gave me that advice, and you were right to remind me--"  
  
"It is _suggested_ protocol, Captain, not a set rule. There is no Starfleet statute expressly forbidding a relationship between a captain and his or her subordinate, only a strong admonition against such relationships. While I would agree that most are mistakes--and there have been a surprising number of such relationships, according to Starfleet annals--our situation here is very unique. We've sometimes found it necessary to reinterpret Starfleet protocol to fit our situation--"  
  
"You're right, Doctor," Janeway agreed. "Our situation is unique. On Voyager, there is no option for one of the parties to transfer to another post, which is the usual result if an affair doesn't work out."  
  
"But we're not talking about a simple affair, are we, Captain?"  
  
Janeway wanted to look away from the Doctor's penetrating gaze. They weren't talking in generalities anymore; they were talking about Chakotay. After all this time, and after all they'd gone through together, if she got involved with Chakotay it wouldn't be a flash in the pan romance. That made it unlikely there would be the kind of messy break up that could undermine her authority. But it also meant there would be nothing simple about it--as the Doctor surmised. That thought brought both yearning and trepidation. She fell instinctively back on her sense of duty. "My first responsibility is to the crew--"  
  
"Captain, with all due respect, I think you're using the crew as a shield, and you're treating them with disrespect in the process."  
  
Janeway stiffened. "I beg your pardon?"  
  
The Doctor was undeterred by her icy tone. "This crew's loyalty to you is not based on mere duty. Perhaps it was seven years ago, when our journey started, but we're all part of a community now--a family. If you resolved to live your life fully, in every aspect, they wouldn't suddenly lose their respect for you or withdraw their loyalty. On the contrary, they'd be happy for you. Not one of them has ever expected you to remain in self-imposed isolation for the duration of our journey."  
  
"Doctor, I appreciate your opinion on my crew's state of mind--"  
  
"I know their state of mind, Captain. I'm their Doctor. And I'm rescinding my original advice. What you do is your choice, but..." he paused and glanced at Seven once more before returning his gaze to Janeway. "I probably never had a chance, but you do. You let the opportunity pass once, with justifiable reasons. But if you keep waiting for the circumstances to be just right, one day you may find that the opportunity is gone, forever."  
  
Janeway looked at Chakotay. He was laughing at something Tom was saying. Was she really expecting him to wait forever? She'd once assumed she had given up her opportunity, for the better good, when she'd closed the door hard between them several years ago, quoting those Starfleet protocols. For some reason she couldn't quite fathom, Chakotay had never completely given up on her; but if she kept on the way she was going, one day he would find someone else who could give him what he needed--  
  
"Captain?"  
  
Janeway returned her attention to the Doctor. "I will consider what you've said."  
  
The Doctor looked at her intently for a moment, then he nodded, satisfied. "I hope you do, Captain. In the meantime, any requests?"  
  
"What? Oh..." She realized the Doctor hadn't played any music during the several minutes they'd been talking. No one seemed to have noticed, since the conversation and laughter had continued unabated around them. "Your choice, Doctor."  
  
The Doctor nodded and began to play again, a soft, romantic melody. Janeway rose and squeezed him briefly on the shoulder. She had something to do.  
  
"You must remember this, a kiss is still a kiss," the Doctor sang in his strong baritone. "A sigh is just a sigh. The fundamental things apply, as time goes by."  
  
Janeway walked around the small dance floor the Doctor had added several months earlier to popular demand. Tom and B'Elanna were already there, swaying gracefully, B'Elanna's pregnancy obvious now even pressed close as she was against her husband. Her chief engineer's eyes were closed and there was a small, contented smile on her face that made Janeway's heart glad. She met Tom's equally satisfied gaze and smiled, then stepped aside as Angelo Tessoni and Tal Celes walked onto the dance floor together. She'd heard some rumors about those two recently. It appeared they just might be true.  
  
At Seven's table, Naomi stood and tugged at Icheb's hand. He shook his head, but a moment later he gave in. Janeway just caught Naomi's words as she pulled him toward the dance floor--"Don't worry. I'll teach you." Seven's eyebrow rose as Janeway's gaze met hers, and they shared an amused look at Naomi's youthful enthusiasm before Seven returned her attention to her PADD.  
  
A moment later, Janeway realized that she'd crossed the room and was now standing in front of his table. She didn't have anywhere else to focus her attention, except on the other person at the table who spoke first.  
  
"Evening, Captain."  
  
"Good evening, Lieutenant Kim," Janeway said. She smiled inwardly at the small and probably unconscious lift of Harry's shoulders at her address. Harry stood before she could add anything else. "If you'll excuse me, Captain."  
  
Janeway nodded and watched Harry walk to the table where Marla Gilmore and Noah Lessing were sitting with the Delaney sisters. He slid in next to Marla, who looked happy to see him, reminding Janeway of another rumor she'd heard recently. If feelings were developing between those two, she figured Marla might have to do the pursuing. Harry had become a little reticent when it came to romance. If Marla made the effort, she'd certainly find out the young man was worth it.  
  
"Finished with that final departmental review, Captain?"  
  
Janeway finally looked at Chakotay. He was watching her with a small curious smile on his face. "I've finally caught up."  
  
"So you're a free woman for the evening," he said, dimples flashing as he motioned for her to join him. She shook her head, and his grin slipped just a little.  
  
Instead she held out her hand. "Would you care to dance?"  
  
They'd danced before, at official ship functions and holiday celebrations, in the semi-guise of duty, but never in a purely recreational program. And she'd never done the asking. To his credit, Chakotay's blank expression of astonishment only lasted a couple of seconds. Then he stood silently and took her hand. His eyes remained on hers as they moved to the dance floor. When they stopped, she saw the question in them, a question that she couldn't quite answer yet. Instead, she put her hands on his shoulders and felt him slip his arms around her waist. Their bodies brushed close as the Doctor's voice drifted around them.  
  
"It's still the same old story, a fight for love and glory, a case of do or die..."  
  
She didn't want to think about duty and responsibilities, or decisions, right and wrong, or guilt, or loss. She didn't want to think about the Borg, or what was likely waiting out there for them next. She didn't even want to think about where this small opening she'd just made might lead, or whether she had used protocol as a shield, giving it more power than it truly had, just to protect herself.  
  
Chakotay's arms tightened around her as if he sensed her jumbled thoughts, She felt his silent support--the support that had always been there, no matter what twists and turns their relationship had taken, personally and professionally.  
  
Tomorrow she would have to think about it all, because that was her nature. But for this little while she would let it go and just be Kathryn--not the captain, and not Janeway, but the woman she sometimes feared she was allowing to slip away. Just Kathryn.  
  
"The world will always welcome lovers, as time goes by," the Doctor crooned.  
  
Relaxing completely, Kathryn rested her cheek against Chakotay's shoulder as they began to dance.

 

End

**Author's Note:**

> Next Up: "Ragnarok" by Rocky: Four years ago, Voyager encountered the Borg for the first time. By dint of determination, and a fair share of luck, they managed to survive that initial meeting. Over the years, Voyager's path crossed that of the Borg repeatedly, sometimes by chance, once or twice by design. Each time Janeway's intrepid crew emerged victorious. But now great forces have been set in motion, and life on board Voyager will never be the same again.


End file.
